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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


^ 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


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Thi 
pot 
of  1 
filn 


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be{ 
the 
sioi 
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firs 
sioi 
ori 


Th« 
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whi 

Ma 
diff 
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beg 
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raqi 
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This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  fiimd  au  taux  de  reduction  :ndiqu6  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

1*-"  ~ 

22X 

26X 

30X 

/ 

12X 

16X 

20X 

24X 

28X 

32X 

re 

Idtails 
}s  du 
nodifier 
)r  une 
ilmage 


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BS 


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dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
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et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nicessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


errata 
to 


I  pelure, 
on  & 


D 


32X 


1 

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3 

:       1 

i       2 

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1 

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5 

6 

SIR   ROBERT  PEEL. 


ir  nr 


>;    > 


FAMOUS 


) 


ENGLISH   STATESMEN 


OF 


QUEEN  VICTORIA'S  REIGN 


SARAH    KNOWLES   BOLTON 

AUTHOR   or  "  I'OOK    IU>VS   WHO    UHCAMI':    lAMOlN,"  "  (.IKI.S    WHO    I'.I'XAMF.    FAMOUS,' 

"famous       AMKKKAN      AUTIliiK^,"       "FAMOUS      AMFKICAN      STATFSMKN," 

"  FAMOUS      MF.N     IIK      SCll'.Nt.  K,"      "  FAMOUS      KUKOl'FAN      AK  TISTS," 

"social  STUDIES  IN   KNCM.AN  I),"   "STIIKIFS   FKi  iM    LIFE," 

"  FKOM  IIFAKT  AND  N  ATl'KF.  "('"OEMs)  "  FAMOUS 

ENGLISH     AUTHORS,"   ETC.,   ETC. 


'« I  flo  not  trouble  myself  wlictlier  my  conduct  in  Parliament  is  jiopular  or 
not.  1  can:  only  lliit  it  shall  be  wise  and  just  as  regard::)  the  pernianent  interests 
of  my  country."— John  D'acuT. 


NEW  YORK 

THOMAS   Y.  CROWKLL  cS:   COMPANY 

PUBLISH  KRS 


IM 


I 


Copyright,  1*^91, 
By  Thomas  Y.  Ckowull  &  Co. 


^T^RAR^ 


•;? 


'•'  <i  0  I'j 


%.'rv  Of  ■^^^'^^^ 


■"',^^   -~ 


9)634K 


I 


\ 


C.  J.  PETERS  &,  SON, 

Typographers  and  ElectrotypeRO, 
146  HiQH  Street,  Boston. 


\ 


\ 


\ 


?l 


TO    THE    MEMORY    OF    MV    I'AKEXTS, 

Solju  ^cgar  Ijlnoinlcs 


ANM) 


Elijalittlj  fHaro  iHilltt. 


ll. 


I 


PREFACE. 


THE  history  of  these  men  is  largely  the  history  of 
Great  Britain  during  the  last  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  With  I'eel  begins  the  relief  of  Ireland  through 
Catholic  Emancipation;  with  Gladstone,  better  land 
laws,  and  perchance  self-government  for  Ireland.  With 
Palmerston  is  told  the  story  of  the  Crimean  War ;  with 
John  Ih-ight,  the  struggle  for  free  trade,  and  his  noble 
defence  of  America  in  our  Civil  War  ;  with  Forster,  the 
great  gift  to  England  of  elementary  education  ;  with 
Shaftesbury,  the  elevation  of  labor  through  legislative 
enactments  and  the  most  generous  sympathy  ;  with 
Beaconstield  and  with  Fawcett,  victory  over  obstacles 
almost  insurmountable,  the  race  question,  and  blindness. 
If,  as  Froude  says,  "those  whom  the  world  agrees  to 
call  great  are  those  who  have  done  or  produced  some- 
thing of  permanent  value  to  humanity,"  then  the  states- 
men sketched  in  this  volume  may  well  be  called  great. 
They  loved  and  served  their  country,  and  have  helped 
her  to  reach  an  exalted  position  among  the  nations. 

S.   K.   B. 
6 


il 


H   L 

1  ! 


CONTENTS. 


/     SiK  ROIJKRT  TEEL    . 

/    Loud  Palmehston 

/     LOKl)    SlIAFTESBUUY 

/*  John  Bright  .... 
/  William  Edward  Forster 
/    Lord  Beaconsfield 
Henry  Fawcett     . 
f.    William  Ewart  Gladstone 


I'AOE 
U 

02 
123 
192 
259 
313 
378 
414 


^ 


I'- 


i; 


SIR  ROBERT  PEEL. 


SIR  EGBERT   PEEL,  Prime  Minister  of  EngLand, 
was   born   near   Bury,  in    Lancashire,  February   5, 

1788. 

His  grandfather,  Robert,  at  first  supported  his  family 
by  farming,  eked  out  by  hand-loom  weaving.  He  had 
married  Elizabeth  Haworth,  whose  social  position  was 
somewhat  superior  to  his  own,  as  lier  father  w^as  styled 
"  genthMnan."  Her  brother  was  engaged  in  calico  print- 
ing, and  asked  ]Mr.  Peel  to  join  him  in  business. 

Heretofore  the  use  of  calicoes  had  been  restricted  by 
imposing  a  penalty  of  five  pounds  upon  the  weaver,  and 
twenty  pounds  upon  the  seller,  of  a  piece  of  calico,  be- 
cause such  use  would  interfere  with  the  makers  of  linen 
and  woollen  stuffs  !  In  173G  calicoes  Avere  allow^ed  to 
be  worn  if  the  Avarp  was  entirely  of  linen.  In  1744  a 
st;itute  was  passed  allowing  printed  goods  wholly  made 
of  CO  Lion  to  be  used. 

The  need  of  the  new  firm  of  Haworth  &  Peel  was 
money.  .Mr,  Peel  had  mortgaged  his  small  property,  and 
combined  the  amount  obtained  with  that  of  ^Ir.  Haworth, 
but  the  capital  was  insuilicient.  Finally  a  Mr.  Yates, 
the  keeper  of  a  small  inn,  agreed  to  furnish  money  for 
the  enterprise. 

The  firm  —  now  Haworth,  Peel,  &  Yates  —made  and 
printed  its  own  cloth,  and  opened  a  warehouse  for  its 

9 


« 


I 


h 


'i 


10 


SIR  ROBERT  PEEL. 


sale  in  Manchester.  Ur.  Peel,  especially,  was  inventive, 
but  kept  his  improvements  carefully  secreted  from  other 
firms.  Sir  Lawrence  Peel,  the  cousin  of  the  Prime  Min- 
ister, tells  this  story  of  the  elder  Peel :  — 

"He  was  in  his  kitchen  making  some  experiments  in 
printing  on  handkerchiefs,  and  other  small  pieces,  when 
his  only  daughter,  then  a  girl,  afterwards  Mrs.  Willock. 
the  mother  of  the  postmaster  of  ^NFanchester,  brought 
him  in  from  their  garden  of  herbs  a  sprig  of  parsley. 
.  .  .  Slie  pointed  out  and  praised  the  beauty  —  exquisite 
beauty  —  of  the  leaf,  and  looking  by  habit  of  imitation, 
naturally,  to  the  useful  side,  she  said  that  she  thought  it 
would  make  a  very  pretty  pattern. 

"  He  took  it  out  of  her  hand,  looked  at  it  attentively, 
praised  it  for  its  beauty,  and  her  for  her  taste,  and  said 
that  he  would  make  a  trial  of  it.  She,  pleased  not  to  be 
pooh-poohed  as  discoverers  amongst  juniors  often  are, 
lent  her  aid  with  all  the  alacrity  of  fourteen. 

"  A  pewter  dinner-plate,  for  such  was  then  the  com- 
mon dinner-plate  in  families  of  that  degree,  was  taken 
down  from  the  shelf,  and  on  it  was  sketched,  say  rather 
scratched,  a  figure  of  the  leaf,  and  from  this  impressions 
were  taken.  It  was  called  in  the  family  Nanciy's  pat- 
tern, after  his  daughter.  It  became  a  favorite  ;  in  the 
trade  it  was  known  as  the  parsley-leaf  pattern ;  and  a})t 
alliteration,  lending  its  artful  aid,  gave  its  inventor  the 
nickname  of  Parsley  Peel." 

lie  was  industrious,  frugal,  reserved,  and  plain  in 
ixianner.  When  he  walked  the  streets,  with  his  head 
down,  engaged  v^.  thought,  his  neighbors  called  him  "the 
philosopher." 

He  did  not  stand  upon  ceremony.  "It  chanced  one 
day,"  says  Sir  Lawrence  Peel,  "  that  the  Earl  of  Ux- 


SIR  ROBERT  PEEL. 


11 


bridge,  from  whom  he  rented  his  milis,  called  upon  him 
on  some  business,  on  the  conclusion  of  which  his  lord- 
ship was  invited  by  Mr.  Peel  to  his  house,  an  invitation 
which  was  cordially  accepted.  They  walked  together  to 
the  house,  which  was  at  no  great  distance. 

"As  they  approached  it,  Mr.  Peel  saw  that  the  front  door 
was  closed  ;  and  being  always  impatient  of  form,  and  also 
a  valuer  of  time,  he  led  his  honored  guest  into  the  house 
by  the  back  way  on  a  washing-day,  and  whilst  piloting 
him  through  a  north-west  passage,  not  without  its  ob- 
structions of  tubs,  pails,  and  other  household  utensils, 
was  observed  by  the  reproachful  eyes  of  his  wife,  who 
failed  not,  with  a  due  observance,  however,  of  time  and 
place,  to  make  continual  claim  in  the  name  of  decorum 
against  an  entry  scarcely  less  lawless  in  her  eyes  than  a 
disseisin. 

"  This  dame  was  quite  able  to  guide  the  helm  herself. 
.  .  .  There  was  a  panic ;  some  great  house  had  fallen. 
Mr.  Peel  was  from  home  when  the  news  arrived,  which 
came  on  a  Saturday  night.  Rumor  immediately  puffed 
out  her  livid  cheeks,  and  began  to  throw  out  ugly  hints ; 
and  she  did  not  s})are  the  Peels,  who  were  at  this  time 
connected  with  a  bank  on  which  a  run  was  api)rehended. 
The  next  morning  j\[rs.  ]^eel  came  down-stairs  to  break- 
fast, dressed  in  her  very  best  suit,  and  seeing  her  daugh- 
ter less  handsomely  attired  than  she  in  her  politic  brain 
judged  expedient,  she  desired  her  to  go  up-stairs  and  put 
on  her  very  best  clothes. 

"  She  counselled  her  (dso  as  to  her  looks.  '  Look  as 
blithe  as  you  can,'  said  she,  '  for  depend  upon  it,  if  the 
folks  see  us  looking  glum  to-day,  they  will  be  all  at  the 
Bank  to-morrow.'  So  out  they  sallied  to  church ;  and 
straight  on  in  their  ample  garments  they  sailed,  slowly, 


12 


SIR  ROBERT  PEEL. 


serene,  wearing  no  false  colors,  saluted  and  saluting  in 
return,  holding  their  own,  making  no  tacks,  neither  port- 
ing nor  starboarding  their  helms,  but  proceeding  as 
though  they  could  sweep  over  any  ugly-looking  craft 
which  might  cross  them. 

''  And  we  may  fancy  some  of  their  humbler  female 
neighbors  mentally  pricing  their  gowns  as  they  passed, 
with  an  '  Oh,  bless  you,  they  are  as  safe  as  the  Church  ; ' 
for  people  will  estimate  solvency,  rather  illogically,  by 
what  has  been  already  expended." 

After  a  time  the  hand-loom  weavers  began  to  fear  that 
the  introduction  of  machinery  would  deprive  them  of 
their  living.  A  mob  gathered,  and  demolished  the 
spinning-jennies  and  every  machine  turned  by  water  or 
horses. 

Mr.  Peel,  incensed  at  such  conduct,  at  once  removed 
his  works  from  Blackburn  to  Burton-on-Trent,  in  Staf- 
fordshire, and  built  three  mills,  his  fortune  having  so 
increased  that  he  was  able  to  cut  a  canal  costing  nine 
thousand  pounds  to  supply  one  of  these  mills  with 
water. 

He  used  to  say  that,  barring  accidents,  a  man  might 
be  what  he  chose;  so,  never  disheartened,  he  faced 
calmly  all  difficulties,  and  overcame  them. 

Late  in  life  Mr.  Peel  moved  with  his  family  to  Ard- 
wick  Green,  near  jVIanchester,  where  the  young  lad, 
Kobert,  used  to  visit  his  grandparents.  A  little  time 
before  the  elder  Peel  died,  his  wife  said  to  him,  "  Kob- 
ert,  I  hope  tliat  I  may  live  a  few  months  after  thee."  — 
"Why?"  he  asked.  "Robert,"  was  the  reply,  "thou 
hast  been  always  a  kind,  good  husband  to  me,  thou  hast 
been  a  man  well  tliought  of.  and  I  should  like  to  stay 
by  thee  to  the  last,  and  kec^)  thee  all  right."     He  died 


SIR   ROBERT  PEEL. 


13 


at  the  age  of  sevciity-two,  and  his  wife  survived  him 
,'ibout  nine  months,  dying  at  the  age  of  seventy -three. 
His  motto  was  "Industry,"  which  well  described  his 
busy  life. 

His  third  son,  Robert,  the  father  of  the  Prime  jNIinis- 
ter,  inherited  not  only  his  name,  but  his  energy,  devo- 
tion to  business,  and  his  ability.  When  he  was  fourteen 
he  declared  that  he  would  be  the  founder  of  a  family, 
and  that  he  would  acquire  great  wealth.  He  was  ridi- 
culed for  this  by  his  elder  brothers,  but  his  words 
proved  true.  When  he  was  eighteen  he  told  his  father 
that  they  were  "  too  thick  upon  the  ground,"  and  he 
would  go  elsewhere  if  he  could  receive  five  lumdred  pounds 
to  begin  life  v/ith.  This  proposition  was  not  acceded  to, 
but  the  young  man  was  made  a  partner  in  the  cotton 
trade  by  his  maternal  uncle,  INIr.  Haworth.  He  was  not 
afraid  of  work.  "For  many  a  day,"  says  Sir  Lawrence 
Peel,  "his  life  was  one  of  hard,  incessant  labor.  He 
would  rise  at  night  from  his  bed  when  there  was  a  like- 
lihood of  bad  weather,  to  visit  the  bleaching  grounds ; 
and  one  night  in  each  week  he  used  to  sit  up  all  night, 
attended  by  his  pattern-drawer,  to  receive  any  new  pat- 
terns which  the  London  coach,  arriving  at  midnight, 
might  bring  down,  for  at  first  they  were  followers  and 
imitators  of  the  London  work.  But  they  soon  aspired 
to  lead  their  masters,  and  it  was  soon  apparent  to  the 
Londoners  themselves  that  their  trade  would  desert 
them,  and  flow  into  these  new  channels." 

Mr.  Haworth  retired  from  business,  and  Mr.  Yates 
became  senior  partner.  When  the  new  plans  of  young 
Peel  met  with  remonstrance  from  the  older  employes, 
Mr.  Yates  would  say,  "  The  will  of  our  Kobert  is  law 
here," 


14 


SIR  no  BERT  PEEL. 


Ill 


IIo  boarded  in  tlie  house  of  Mr.  Yates,  paying  a  very 
...oderate  sum  for  his  board.  He  found  the  home  addi- 
tionally pleasant  from  the  presence  of  a  child,  Ellen, 
whom,  whileyetasclioolgirl,  he  resolved  sometime  to  win 
for  his  wife.  At  eig]it(>eii,  pretty,  vivacious,  and  sweet  in 
disposition,  she  married  the  man  of  thirty-six,  who  had 
waited  for  her,  and  had  by  this  time  become  wealthy. 
Though  naturally  fond  of  society,  she  accepted  her  lius- 
band's  quiet,  domestic  habits,  and  made  a  most  excel- 
lent wife,  and  mother  of  the  future  Prime  IMinister. 

Of  their  six  sons  and  five  daughters,  Kobert  w^as  their 
eldest  son  and  third  child.  When  his  father  wo"  told  of 
the  birth  of  his  son,  he  fell  ui)on  his  knees,  and  returned 
thanks  to  God  for  the  blessing,  and  then  and  there  con- 
secrated his  boy  to  his  country.  From  that  time  on, 
while  his  fortune  doubled  and  trebled  into  many  mil- 
lions, his  one  hope  and  thought  was  that  Robert  might 
be  great.  Though  not  a  scholar  himself,  he  desired  to 
make  his  boy  a  model  of  scholarship.  He  would  lift 
him  upon  the  small  round  table  beside  the  breakfast- 
table,  and  encourage  him  to  recite,  that  he  might  be- 
come an  orator.  At  twelve  years  of  age  he  would  desire 
him  to  repeat  all  he  could  remember  of  the  sermon  each 
Sunday ;  to  ask  questions,  that  he  might  understand  any 
obscure  passages  in  the  words  of  the  preacher. 

As  the  father  had  become  a  member  of  the  House  of 
Commons  in  1790,  he  talked  daily  with  his  son  about  mat- 
ters of  finance,  the  condition  of  Ireland,  and  everything 
pertaining  to  the  national  welfare.  He  held  before  him 
the  example  of  I'itt,  whose  fairness,  candor,  and  abili- 
ties were  the  theme  of  never-ending  praise.  "  Xo  min- 
ister," he  said  in  a  spee(;h  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
"ever  understood  so  well  the  commercial  interests  of 


SIR  ROBEllT  PEEL. 


16 


the  country.  lie  knew  that  the  true  sources  of  its 
greatness  lay  in  its  productive  industry.  The  hite  min- 
ister had  been  the  benefactor  of  his  country,  and  had 
neglected  no  interest  but  his  own."  He  took  his  child 
to  the  House  to  hear  the  eloquent  speeches  of  Fox  and 

ritt. 

In  1800  he  had  been  given  a  baronetcy  as  a  reward  for 
his  support  of  his  ^Majesty's  advisers,  and  because  his 
firm  had  subscribed  ten  thousand  pounds  towards  the 
war  with  France. 

The  boy  idolized  his  father,  and  imbibed  his  Tory  sen- 
timents and  prejudices,  many  of  which  he  had  to  give 
up  later  in  life.  As  a  result  of  all  this,  as  Mr.  F.  C. 
IMontague  says  in  his  brief  Life  of  Feel,  the  boy  "had 
no  childhood,  he  never  possessed  the  unlabored  charm 
of  those  who  have  once  been  downright  children.  He 
was  good  and  gentle,  docile  and  studious,  observant  and 
thoughtful ;  but  he  was  morbidly  sensitive,  shrank  from 
the  rough  ways  of  his  e(iuals  in  years,  and  preferred  the 
society  of  his  elders.  He  thus  acquired  a  certain  for- 
mality and  stiffness,  as  of  a  self-conscious  child,  which 
remained  with  him  all  his  life,  and  led  those  who  did 
not  know  him  to  think  that  he  had  no  heart." 

"He  would  walk  a  mile  round,"  says  his  cousin,  Sir 
Lawrence,  "rather  than  encounter  the  nide  jests  of  the 
l)ury  lads,  which  his  young  companions  bore  with  more 
philos{)[)hy." 

He  adds  that  in  R})ite  of  some  disadvantages  of  this 
early  training,  llobert  "  received  an  early  aim,  one  great 
advantage.  He  was  stimulated  to  exertion  by  the 
thought  that  great  things  were  expected  from  him." 

The  lad  was  sent  to  Harrow  to  school,  where  he  was 
quiet  and  studious,  preferring  long  walks  by  himself  to 


SBass^ 


irii¥r ''-'-<" 


I 


ii 


IQ  SIR  liOBERT  PEEL. 

games,  and  was  paii.s-taking  in  liis  work.  Lord  Byron, 
who  was  liis  schooliVllow,  wrote  of  liini :  "Peel,  the 
orator  and  statesman  that  was,  or  is,  or  is  to  be,  was  my 
form-fellow,  and  we  were  both  at  the  top  of  onr  remove. 
We  were  on  good  terms,  but  his  brother  was  my  intimate 
friend.  There  were  always  great  hopes  of  Teel  amongst 
us  all,  masters  and  scholars,  and  he  has  not  disappointed 
them.  As  a  scholar,  he  was  greatly  my  superior  ;  as  a 
declaimer  and  actor,  I  was  reckoned  at  least  his  equal ; 
as  a  schoolboy  out  of  school,  I  was  always  in  scrapes, 
and  he  never ;  and  in  school  he  always  knew  his  lesson, 
and  I  rarely  ;  but  when  1  knew  it,  I  knew  it  nearly  as 
well ;  and  in  general  information,  history,  etc.,  I  think 
I  was  his   superior,   as  well   as  of   most   boys   of   my 

standing." 

From  Harrow,  Eobert,  at  eighteen,  wont  to  Christ 
Church,  Oxford.  Here,  besides  giving  attention  to  reg- 
ular work,  he  found  recreation  in  boating,  cricket,  and 
riding.  He  became  a  close  friend  of  his  tutor,  lie  v. 
Charles  Lloyd,  afterwards  IJishop  of  Oxford. 

When  he  was  twenty,  he  received  a  double  first  class 
in  classics  and  mathematics,  standing  alone  in  the  math- 
ematical first  class.  The  honor  was  so  gratifying  to  Ids 
father  that  for  a  long  time  Sir  Kobert  could  not  speak  ol 
it  without  shedding  tears. 

The  following  year,  1809,  Sir  Kobert  obtained  for  his 
son  a  seat  in  Parliament,  from  the  ancient  Irish  city  of 
Cashel.  At  twenty-one,  he  was  indeed  the  favored  child 
of  fortune ;  very  rich,  of  fine  physiipie,  tall  and  strong, 
cultivated  in  mind,  with  on(>  g(^al  before  him,  the  high- 
est political  position  in  England,  —  that  of  Prime 
Minister. 

The  father  made  no  secret  of  his  ambition  for  his  son, 


SIR  no  BERT  PEEL. 


17 


so  that  young  Peel  was  reg-ardt^d  as  a  candidate  for  the 
office  of  J*rinie  Ministei'  from  the  first.  One  of  the  witty 
journals  of  tlie  d;iy  )ublished  as  a  satire,  ''  the  hist  will 
and  testament  of  a  })atriot :  .  .  .  I  give  and  bequeath 
my  patieyice  to  Mr.  Robert  Peel;  he  will  want  it  all 
before  he  becomes  Prime  Minister  of  England  ;  but  in  the 
event  of  such  a  contingency,  my  patience  is  to  revert  to 
the  people  of  England,  who  will  stand  sadly  in  need  of  it." 

''It  was  still  the  fashion,"'  says  Sir  Lawrence,  "to 
wear  powder  in  the  hair  at  a  dinner  or  evening  party; 
and  this  fashion,  which  concealed  the  sandy  color  of 
his  hair,  and  suited  his  complexion,  bt^canie  him  well. 
With  good  features,  a  sweet  smile,  a  well-formed  head, 
high  and  ample  forehead,  and  a  countenance,  which, 
when  animated,  v/as  not  wanting  in  expression  or  fire,  he 
was  generally  thought  a  very  good-looking  young  man. 
.  .  .  His  appearance  and  manners  were  those  of  a  gen- 
tleman. In  any  society  where  he  was  intimate  he  wa,s 
an  amusing,  intelligent,  and  instructive  companion.  He 
had  ]nuch  humor,  was  a  keen  observer,  with  a  sharp  eye 
to  detect  the  ridiculous,  and  a  propensity  to  expose  it, 
which  he  did  slyly,  with  a  quiet  relish  of  absurdity. 
Still  this  was  a  propensity  which  he  kept  in  check,  and 
feared  to  indulge. 

"He  conversed  well,  and  when  any  subject  interested 
him  his  face  lighted  up,  and  you  saw  by  the  animation  of  his 
manner  and  the  glow  of  his  countenance,  his  enthusias- 
tic admiration  of  genius,  nobleness,  or  any  greatness.  .  .  . 
He  had  always  that  same  smooth  outside  and  softness 
of  speech,  which  have  been  quizzed  as  a  '  bland  suavity.' 
Under  this  smooth,  and  to  strangers  too  cold,  outside, 
beat,  however,  a  warm  Ihiglish  heart,  which  prosperity 
never  chilled  nor  hardened.*' 


1  ^ 


18 


SIR  iioi!i:in'  rKEL. 


During  reel's  first  session  of  rarliament  he  made  no 
speeeli.  ''when  he  si.oke  in  seoondin-  the  Address,  in 
reply  to  the  Speech  from  the  Throne  in  January,  ISlO,  it 
was  with  modest  assurance  aiul  excellent  voice.  Teel's 
first  connection  nith  ollice  was  as  the  private  secretary 
of  Lord  Liverpool.  A  letter  written  by  liim  fell  under 
the  eye  of  George  III.,  who  praised  it  as  a  "good 
business-like  letter,"  which  fact  greatly  pleased  Sir 
Kobert  Peel,  the  father. 

"When  3[r.  Spencer  Perceval  became  Prime  3Iiuister, 
reel  was  made  Under  Colonial  Secretary.  Tliis  adminis- 
tration came  to  an  end  suihlenly  in  ^fay,  LSI 2.  by  the 
murder  of  Perceval  in  the  lobby  of  tlu;  House  of  Com- 
mons.  Ih'llingham,  a  Liverpool  brok.-'-,  having  some 
claims  on  the  Ku'-sian  government,  appealed  to  England 
to  intercede  for  him.  Xo  notice  being  taken  of  tliis 
request,  he  decided  to  kill  the  first  member  of  the  gov- 
ernment whom  he  met.  Meeting  Mr.  Perceval  first,  he 
fired  at  him  with  a  pistol,  and  the  Prime  ]\Iinister  fell 
dead.  Tlie  assassin  was  executed.  Lord  Liverpool  then 
became  Prime  ]\[iinster,  and  Peel  accepted  the  position 
of  Cliief  Secretary  for  Ireland. 

He  was  only  twenty-four,  and  called  to  a  most  ditticult 
position.  The  country,  as  usual,  was  unsettled  through 
contending  factions.  O'Connell,  the  great  agitator,  was 
op[>osed  to  tlie  appointment  of  so  young  a  man,  and 
said  the  English  had  sent  to  Ireland  "  a  raw  youth 
squeezed  out  of  the  workings  of  I  know  not  what  factory 
in  England,  .  .  .  sent  over  here  before  he  got  rid  of  the 
foppery  of  perfumed  handkerchiefs  and  thin  shoes." 

There  is  no  doubt  tluit  Peel  intended  to  be  fair  and 
just ;  but  as  many  tliought  he  was  favorable  to  the 
Orangemen,  he  was  nicknamed  "Orange  Peel"  by  the 
followers  of  O'Connell. 


SIR  nOUFAlT  PEEL. 


19 


u 


He  held  the  position  for  six  years,  and  did  some  good 
work  for  Ireland.  He  established  an  efficient  police,  — 
called  to  this  day  in  Ireland,  "  Peelers."  He  viewed 
with  dismay  tlie  lack  of  education,  and  with  intense 
interest  the  efforts  of  tlie  poor  to  procure  schools  for 
their  children.  He  said  in  the  House  of  Commons  :  "  It 
was  a  thing  quite  frequent  for  working  people  to  deprive 
themselves  of  all  advantage  from  the  labor  of  their  chil- 
dren, in  order  that  they  might  have  their  whole  time 
devoted  to  literary  acquirements ;  and  he  knew  one 
parish  in  which  there  were  no  fewer  than  ehn-en  even- 
ing schools,  where  adults  used  to  repair  after  the  toils 
of  the  day,  in  order  to  procure  that  culture  which  had 
been  denied  in  their  earlier  years." 

He  urged  that  the  "only  rational  plan  of  education  in 
Ireland  was  one  which  should  be  extended  impartially 
to  children  of  all  religious  persuasions ;  one  which  did 
not  profess  to  make  converts ;  one  which,  while  it  im- 
parted general  religious  instruction,  left  those  who  were 
its  objects  to  obtain  their  particular  religious  discipline 
elsewhere." 

Peel  and  O'Connell  were  always  at  enmity.  As  the 
disgraceful  fashion  of  duelling  was  still  somewhat  in 
vogue,  Peel  sent  to  O'Connell  that  he  was  ready  to  accept 
a  challenge,  if  O'Connell  thought  he  had  been  ill  treated 
in  language.  Later  a  duel  was  arranged,  but  was  pre- 
vented by  the  authorities. 

Weary  of  his  secretaryship,  Peel  resigned  in  the 
summer  of  1818  and  went  to  the  Highlands  for  a  holi- 
day. He  had  been  returned  to  Parliament  from  his 
own  university,  Oxford, — a  great  honor,  and  one  much 
desired  by  the  eloquent  Canning;  but  the  latter  was  too 
much  of  a  Liberal,  and  was  also  in  favor  of  Catholic 
Emancipation,  to  which  Peel  was  heartily  opposed. 


20 


SIR  ROliKUl    VKEL. 


l»eel  was  now  to  nuike  a  luiine  for  liiinsclf  as  a  finan- 
cier. During  the  war  with  France,  the  paper  money  of 
England  had  dei.reeiated  twenty-tive  per  cent.  Honor- 
able genth;nien  met  and  ''pledgi'd  themselves  to  believe 
that  l)ank-notes  still  are,  as  they  always  have  been, 
equivalent  to  legal  coin  for  the  internal  purposes  of  the 

country." 

Lord  I'.rongham  justly  observed  that  "there  was  l)ut 
one  further  step  for  such  a  body  to  take,  and  that  was 
to  declare  that  two  and  two  are  e<pud  to  six,  and  to 
imprison  any  one  who  reckoned  differently." 

The  rt'sum})tion  of  cash  payments  seemed  a  necessity 
for  the  stability  of  the  business  of  the  country  ;  but  it  was 
opposed  by  many,  among  them  Sir  Robert  Peel,  the  father, 
who  i)resented  a  i)etition  against  it.  Inasmuch  as  he  was 
a  great  emi)loyer  of  labor  —  fifteen  thousand  men  worked 
for  him  —  and  he  paid  so  large  an  amount  into  the  treas- 
ury—  forty  thousand  pounds  to  the  excise  on  printed 
goods  alone  —  his  name  carried  great  weight.  A  com- 
mittee of  the  House,  composed  of  such  men  as  Canning 
and  Sir  James  ^Mackintosh,  was  ai)pointed  to  consider 
this  question  of  resumption  ;  and  young  liobert  l*eel, 
scarcely  more  than  thirty  years  of  age,  was  made  chair- 
man. In  bringing  forward  the  report,  Teel  m.ade  one  of 
the  great  speeches  of  his  life  in  advocacy  of  a  gra(hial 
return  to  cash  payments.  lie  declared  himself  in  i'avor 
of  "the  old,  the  vulgar  doctrine,  as  some  peo})le  hav(; 
called  it,  —  that  the  true  standard  of  value  consisted  in 
a  definite  quantity  of  gold  bullion." 

He  regretted  that  he  was  compelled  to  differ  from  one 
to  -whose  authority  he  had  always  bowed  with  reverence  ; 
meaning,  of  course,  his  beloved  father. 

The  next  day  the  resolutions  were  carried  without  a 


\ 


sin  nonvAtr  pekl. 


21 


(lissGiitiiig  voice.  Of  course  some  persons  suffered,  us 
those  who  had  contructed  debts  in  the  depreciated  cur- 
rency were  oljliged  to  pay  more  than  the  orij^'inal  debt; 
but  contidence  was  restored,  and  j)rosperity  followed  in 
time. 

A  year  later,  June  8,  1820,  Peel,  at  thirty -two,  was 
married  to  Julia,  the  youn^^est  daughter  of  General  Sir 
John  Floyd,  who  had  distinguished  himself  in  India. 
The  home-life  of  the  Teels  seemed  all  that  anybody 
could  ask  or  wish  ;  they  were  devoted  to  each  other, 
congenial  in  taste,  with  every  wish  gratified  through 
their  wealth,  though  they  gave  generously. 

Extremely  fond  of  art,  Teel  gathered  into  his  home  a 
collection  of  English  portraits  :  Tope,  by  llichardson ; 
Samuel  Johnson,  by  Keynolds;  Southey,  by  L;iwrence  ; 
Byron,  by  j'hillips;  Wordsworth,  by  I'ickersgill.  Next 
to  George  IV.,  Teel  was  the  best  patron  of  Lawrence. 
AVilkie  painted  for  him  his  John  Knox  Preaching.  His 
colh'ction  of  Dutch  and  Flemish  paintings  was  cele- 
brated. Into  his  home  Peel  brought  the  treasures  of 
ancient  and  modern  literature.  He  loved  the  great 
authors  of  Greece  and  Home,  and  always  insisted  upon 
the  value  of  classical  studies. 

"His  reading,"  says  his  cousin,  "was  at  all  times 
various  and  extensive.  Far  from  limiting  his  reading 
to  the  works  on  the  side  wdiicli  he  advocated,  he  seemed 
to  read  as  much,  or  more,  of  those  which  most  ably 
impugiunl  his  opinions.  To  this  practice,  allied  to  that 
of  questioning  himself  as  to  the  grounds  of  his  opinions, 
may  be  attributed  his  great  readiness  in  anticipating  and 
encountering  objections.  He  was  well  versed  in  the 
liuht  literature  of  the  dav,  with  which  his  conversa- 
tion  showed  his  familiarity.     This  appears  also  in  his 


^1^ 


Slit  no  BEET  PEEL, 


i 


•■i 


speeches ;  but  the  quotations  iu  them  are  generally  from 
an  earlier  school.  He  (luotod  more  largely  from  Dryden 
than  from  anv  other  English  poet." 

Just  before  reel's  marriage,  the  worst  of  the  Georges, 
George  IV.,  came  to  the  throne.  He  had  married  at 
thirty-three,  Caroline  of  Brunswick,  to  please  his  father, 
Goori,^e  III,  who  therefore  raised  his  income  from 
£60,000  per  year  to  £ll'r>.000,  of  which  £25,000  was  to 
be  set  aside  annually  towards  the  i)ayment  of  his  debts, 
which  now  amounted  to  £006,000.  Besides  this  the 
profligate  young  man  was  to  receive  £27,000  in  prep- 
aratimi  for  marriage,  £28,000  for  jewelry  and  plate, 
£26,000  for  the  completion  of  Carlton  House,  and 
£50,00^  as  a  jointure  to  lior  Btoyal  Iligliness  Caroline, 
of  which  she  would  accept  only  £3o,OuO. 

George  IV.  quarrelled  with  her  from  the  first,  and 
separated  from  lu>r  after  the  birth  of  their  lovely 
daughter  Charlotte,  whose  death  in  early  womanhood 
brought  grief  to  the  whole  English  nation. 

"When  George  IV.  became  king,  on  the  death  of  his 
father,  he  desired  a  divorce  from  the  Queen,  and  the 
government  of  Lord  Liver[)Ool  brought  in  a  bill  of  })ains 
and  penalties  against  her  on  a  charge  of  immoral  con- 
duct. That  a  man  so  notorious  should  recjuire  such 
purity  of  life  in  another,  caused  the  most  open  con- 
tempt for  him.  He  was  shot  at  one  niglit  in  going  to 
the  theatre,  and  tlie  glass  in  tlie  carriage  windows  was 
broken.  Canning  elocpiently  pleaih'cl  the  cause  of  the 
Queen,  and  Ih'tmgham  tlirew  his  wliole  heart  into  the 
matter.  I'ublic  opinion  became  so  violent  tliat  the  bill 
had  to  be  dropped,  and  great  ri'joicing  followed. 

George  IV.  never  forgave  those  who  iiad  befriended 
the  Queen.     At  the  coronation  iu  Westminster  Abbey, 


SIR  ROBERT  PEEL. 


23 


July  29,  1821,  she  was  refused  admittance,  and  the  next 
day  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre  was  taken  ill,  and  died  Aug- 
ust 7.     She  desired  to  be  buried  beside  her  father  at 
Brunswick.    The  malignant  King  declared  that  her  body 
should  not   be  carried  through   the   city.     The    people 
declared  that  it  should,  and  it  was,  though  a  bloody  en- 
counter took  place  with  the  Life  Guards  at  Hyde  Park 
Corner.     The  cothn  arrived  at  its  destination  August  2G. 
Thackeray  says,  "I  look  through  all  his  life,  and  recog- 
nize but  a  bow  and  a  grin.     I  try  and  take  him  to  pieces, 
and    find   silk   stockings,   padding,  stays,   a  coat  with 
frogs  and  a  fur  collar,  a  star  and  blue  ribbon,  a  pocket- 
handkerchief  prodigiously  scented,  one  of  Truefitt's  best 
nutty  brown  wigs  reeking  with  oil,  a  set  of  teeth,  and  a 
huo-e  black  stock,  under-waistcoats,  more  under-waistcoats, 
and  then  nothing." 

Of  Queen  Caroline  he  says,  "  As  I  read  her  trial  m 
history,  I  vote  she  is  not  guilty.  I  don't  say  it  is  an 
impartial  verdict,  but  as  one  reads  her  story  the  heart 
bleeds  for  the  kindly,  generous,  outraged  creature.  If 
wrong  there  be,  let  it  lie  at  his  door  who  wickedly  thrust 
her  f?om  it.  Spite  of  her  follies,  the  great  hearty  people 
of  England  loved  and  protected  and  pitied  her.  '  God 
bless  you!  we  will  bring  your  husband  back  to  you,' 
said  a  mechanic  one  day,  as  she  told  Lady  Charlotte 
Bury,  with  tears  streaming  down  her  cheeks.  They 
could  not  bring  her  husband  back  ;  they  could  not  cleanse 
that  selfish  heart."' 

Peel  was  glad  to  have  been  out  of  office  during  this 
disgraceful  contest.  He  did  not  approve  of  excluding 
the  name  of  the  Queen  from  the  Liturgy,  as  George  IV. 
wished,  and  as  the  government  conceded ;  but  he  spoke 
against   the    motion   to  censure  the  ministers,   as  that 


J I6 


}■-■ 


;•: 


24 


SIR  IIOIIKRT  PEEL. 


Avoulcl  have  transferred  the  government  to  their  ojipo- 

nents. 

After  twelve  years  of  Parliamentary  life,  IMr.  Peel 
became  a  member  of  tlie  Cabinet  in  1822,  as  Home  Sec- 
retary.  Here  he  carried  out  great  reforms  in  criminal 
law,  and  in  law  relating  to  juries. 

The  noble  Sir  Samuel  Romilly  and  Sir  James  Mackin- 
tosh had  labored  in  this  field  before  him.     Eomilly  had 
secured  in  1812  the  repeal  of  a  statute  "which  made  it  a 
capital  offence  for  a  soldier  or  a  mariner  to  beg  -without 
a  pass  from  a  magistrate  or  commanding  olHcer.     For 
stealing  in  a  shop,  goods  of  the  value  of  live  shillings,  or 
in  a  dwelling-liouse,  or  on  board  a  vessel  in  ji  navigable 
river,  property  of  the  value  of  forty  shillings,  the  pen- 
alty was  death.     Eomilly  showed  in  his  book   on  the 
criminal  laws,  that  for  slioplifting  and  other  offences  of 
the    ame  nature,  from  1749  to  1771,  one  hundred  and 
nine  persons  had  been  executed  at  the  Old  Bailey.     Men 
were  put  to  death  for  maliciously  cutting  hop-vines  in 
plantations,  or  wantonly  iiijuring  the  works  of  the  Bed- 
ford Level,  or  personating  Greenwich  pensioners. 

Queen  Elizabeth  made  it  a  capital  offence  for  any 
person  above  fourteen  to  be  found  associating  for  a 
inontli  with  persons  calling  themselves  Egyptians.  This, 
••  I  he  most  barbarous  statute,  perhaps,"  says  Eomilly, 
'•  that  ever  disgraced  our  criminal  code,  was  executed  down 
to  the  reign  of  King  Charles  the  First.  Lord  Hale  men- 
tions thirteen  persons  having  in  his  time  been  executed 
upon  it  at  our  assizes." 

In  1816  George  Bonnet,  a  boy  of  ten,  for  shoplifting, 
lay  in  the  Old  Bailey  under  penalty  of  death.  A  few 
months  later  a  boy  of  sixteen,  for  highway  robbery,  was 
to  be  hanged,  but  he  was  respited  the  night  before  the 
execution. 


SIR   ROBERT  PEEL. 


JD 


Romilly  showed  that  these  lads  were  trained  to  steal, 
and  did  tliese  acts  at  the  bidding  of  men  who  profited 
by  them,  while  the  boys  wore  put  to  death.  Stealing 
fish  from  any  pond  was  punished  by  transportation  for 
seven  years. 

reel  knew  that  society  could  never  be  reformed  by 
such  brutal  measures ;  that  education  and  Cliristianity 
must  do  what  the  gallows  couhl  never  do.  He  was  in 
a  position  of  power,  and  would  use  that  power  for  the 
public  welfare.  Speaking  in  the  House  of  Commons,  he 
said  :  "  As  the  statute  stood,  a  man  who  stole  his  neigh- 
bor's prayer-book  as  they  sat  in  the  same  pew  at  chapel 
together,  would  be  liable  to  suffer  death  for  it." 

He  showed  that  in  the  seven  years  ending  in  Decem- 
ber, ISlC,  there  were  committed  to  the  prisons  of  Eng- 
land and  Wal-^s,  47,522  persons.  For  the  seven  years 
ending  in  December,  1825,  the  number  doubled!  During 
the  first  seven  years,  4,126  persons  were  sentenced  to 
death  ;  during  the  secoiul  seven  years,  7,770  persons.  The 
death  penalty  did  not  deter  the  people  from  crimes. 

l^eel  brought  in  five  bills  by  which  nearly  one  hundred 
felonies  were  removed  from  the  list  of  capital  offences. 
These  bills  were  passed.  Indignities  formerly  practised 
upon  the  bodies  of  those  who  liad  committed  suicide 
were  abolished. 

In  tlie  year  1825  Peel  carried  a  bill  consolidating  no 
less  than  sixty -six  acts  relating  to  juries.  Many  injus- 
tices were  thus  done  away.  Ikl'ore  this,  a  juryman,  who 
took  bribes  or  gave  improper  verdicts,  forfeited  his 
goods,  was  driven  out  of  doors  with  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren, and  was  made  inlanious  for  life.  During  Peel's 
first  tenure  of  the  ]  lome  ( )Hiee,  two  hundred  and  seventy- 
eight  Acts  relating  to  criminal  1  i\v  were  repealed. 


I 


26 


SIR  liOUEIiT  PEEL. 


Peel  head  become  the  acknowledged  leader  of  the  House 
of  Commons.  The  brilliant  and  eloquent  George  Can- 
ning had  reached  the  goal  of  his  ambition,  the  position 
of  Prime  ]\[inister.  in  April,  1827,  and  had  died  the  same 
year,  August  8.  Though  George  IV.  hated  him  because 
lie  had  befriended  Queen  Caroline,  and  because  he  favored 
Keform  and  Catholic  Emancipation,  the  people  of  both 
England  and  Ireland  looked  to  him  for  great  measures 
in  the  future. 

lie  had  ^on  his  way  to  renown  largely  through  his 
genius.  His  father,  the  eldest  son  of  Stratford  Canning, 
had  been  disinherited,  on  account  of  an  attachment  dis- 
approved by  his  family.  He  became  a  lawyer,  married 
.Mary  Anne  Costello,  a  beautiful  girl  with  no  money, 
and  sinking  under  the  burden  of  supporting  himself  and 
a  family,  died  broken-hearted,  April  11, 1771,  three  years 
after  marriage.  His  wife  went  upon  the  stage,  but  left 
it,  after  thirty  years,  in  1801,  when  her  son  George 
transferred  his  pension  of  five  hundred  pounds  to  her 
and  his  sister. 

George  was  adopted  by  his  father's  brother,  who  was 
a  banker;  was  educated  at  Oxford,  and  at  the  age  of 
thirty  married  Joan,  daughter  of  Major-General  John 
Scott,  who  brought  him  a  fortune  of  £100.000.  After 
tliis,  like  Disraeli,  he  became  independent  financially, 
with  time  to  work  in  matters  of  state,  and  in  idl  that 
cultivates  the  mind. 

After  Canning's  death,  the  Duke  of  Wellington  became 
Prime  ^Minister,  —  Lord  Goderich  held  the  ofllce  i'or  a 
very  brief  period,  —and  J*eel  ri'tained  his  place  as  Home 
Secretary. 

The  year  1829  was  an  eventful  y(>ar  for  England  as 
well  as   for   Peel.     Catiiolic  Emancipation  had  now  to 


SIR  ROBERT  PEEL. 


27 


be  met ;  for  the  country  was  on  the  verge  of  civil  war. 
He  had  been  told  that  through  his  political  life,  "  Ire- 
land would  be  his  principal  difficulty,"  and  certainly  this 
was  true  in  the  early  part  of  it. 

The  story  of  Ireland  is  full  of  interest  —  painful  inter- 
est for  the  most  part :  the  battle-ground  of  Danes  and 
Celts  in  the  early  centuries  ;  converted  from  Paganism, 
by  St.  Patrick  it  is  said,  in  the  fourth  century  ;  noted 
in   the    sixth   for   its    monasteries    and   institutions   of 
learning;    overrun,    for   three    hundred   years,    by   the 
Norsemen,  who  burned  the  cathedrals,  and  slaughtered 
the  monks,  the  famous  round  towers  being  used  proba- 
bly in  defence  against  these  invaders;    the  Norsemen 
overcome  at  last  in  the  great  battle  of  Clontarf,  near 
Dublin,  in  1014,  by  Brian,  the  Irish  monarch,  though  he 
was  killed  with  the  battle-axe  of  a  Viking;  conquered  by 
Henry  II.  of  England,  1169-72,  who  obtained  a  Bull  from 
Pope  Adrian   IV.,  favoring  the  conquest,  and  desiring 
Henry  to  execute  in  the  island  "  whatever  shall  pertain 
to  the  honor  of  God,  and  the  welfare  of  the  land." 

After  the  Norman  conquest  there  were  of  course  con- 
stant feuds  between  the  Norman  adventurers  and  the 
native  chiefs.  Matters  grew  worse  when  Henry  VIII., 
by  the  Act  of  Supremacy,  in  1535,  became  <' Supreme 
Head  of  the  Church  of  England,"  suppressed  the  Roman 
Catholic  churches,  and  confiscated  their  property.  From 
this  time  on,  there  were  constant  revolts  against  English 

rule. 

One  by  one,  like  the  Earl  of  Desmond,  the  leaders 
were  conquered,  and  tlieir  vast  estates  divided  among 
English  settlers.  "  ^Nlunster,"  says  the  Hon.  Emily 
Lawle.>s  in  ''The  Story  of  hvland,"  "which  at  the 
becnnning  of  the  Desmond   rising   had  been    accounted 


28 


Sni  liOliEJiT  PEEL. 


the  most  fertile  province  in  Ireland,  was  now  little 
better  than  a  desert.  Xot  once  or  twice,  but  many 
times,  the  harvest  had  been  burnt  and  destroyed;  and 
great  as  had  been  the  slaughter,  numerous  as  v/ere  the 
executions,  they  had  been  far  eclipsed  by  the  multitude 
of  tliose  who  had  died  of  sheer  famine.  .  .  . 

"  To  replace  this  older  population  thus  starved,  slaugh- 
tered, made  away  with  by  sword  and  pestilence,  with  new 
colonists,  was  the  scheme  of  the  hour.  Desmond's  vast 
estate,  covering  nearly  six  hundred  thousand  Irish  acres, 
not  counting  waste  land,  had  all  been  declared  forfeit  to 
the  Crown.  This  and  a  considerable  portion  of  territory 
also  forfeit  in  Leinster,  was  now  offered  to  English  col- 
onists upon  the  most  advantageous  terms.  No  rent  was 
to  be  paid  at  first,  and  for  ten  years  the  undertakers 
were  to  be  allowed  to  send  their  exports  duty  free." 

The  colonization  scheme  proved  a  failure,  as  English 
laborers  did  not  desire  to  go  to  Ireland,  and  riots  usually 
ensued  if  they  went.  The  Earls  Tirone  and  Tirconnell, 
fearful  for  their  lives,  went  into  exile  in  Kome,  the 
former  dying  blind  and  broken-hearted.  Tht  entire 
estates  of  six  counties  went  to  the  Crown,  regards 'ss  of 
all  sub-proprietors  who  had  had  no  share  in  rebellion. 
James  I.  parcelled  out  this  land  to  English  and  Scottish 
settlers,  and  it  became  known  as  the  "Plantation  of 
Ulster." 

Other  lands,  on  one  pretext  or  another,  were  confiscated. 
Thomas  Wentworth,  Earl  of  Strafford,  had  been  made 
Lord  ijieutenant  of  Ireland  under  Charles  I.,  and  by 
various  methods  he  had  obtained  more  lands  and  money 
for  the  King. 

Great  Britain,  as  well  as  Ireland,  was  in  a  state  of  fer- 
ment.    Strafford  was  impeached  on  twenty-eight  counts, 


!l 


SIR  ItOBEllT  PEEL. 


29 


the  chief  being  that  he  had  incensed  his  Majesty  against 
the  members  of  the  hate  Parliament,  telling  liim  "  they 
had  denied  to  supply  him,  and  that  his  Majesty  having 
tried  the  affections  of  liis  people,  and  been  refused,  he 
was  absolved  from  all  rules  of  government,  and  that  he 
had  an  army  in  Ireland  which  he  might  employ  to  reduce 
the  kingdom."     Strafford  was  executed  May  12,  1041. 

Ireland  was  ripe  for  rebellion.  The  army  which  Straf- 
ford had  collected  in  Ireland,  and  which  Charles,  against 
his  will,  had  been  obliged  to  disband,  had  stored  its  arms 
in  Dublin  Castle.  The  plan  was  to  seize  these  arms,  dis- 
tribute them  to  the  troops,  turn  out  the  Protestant  set- 
tlers, and  free  Ireland  from  English  rule.  The  plan 
failed,  but  not  until  the  slaughter  on  both  sides  had  been 
terrible.  Men,  women,  and  infants  were  massacred,  so 
that  Ireland  lost  one-third  of  her  population.  The  Cath- 
olics demanded  the  restoration  of  the  Catholic  Church, 
with  all  its  original  privileges,  and  an  independent  Irish 
Parliament.     These  Charles  did  not  dare  to  grant. 

Ireland  remained  in  a  state  of  anarchy  till  in  August, 
1C49,  Cromwel!  went  over  with  twelve  thousand  troops 
to  subdue  the  island.  He  took  the  garrisons  at  Drogheda 
and  Wexford,  giving  no  quarter,  sending  word  back  to 
Parliament:  "I  believe  we  put  to  the  sword  the  whole 
number  of  the  defendants.  I  do  not  think  thirty  es- 
caped. ...  I  wish  all  honest  hearts  may  give  the  glory 
of  this  to  God  alone." 

The  loss  of  life  during  the  eight  years  of  civil  war  has 
been  estimated  at  six  hundred  thousand.  Those  who  had 
participated  in  the  rebellion  were  driven  into  exile,  and 
vast  tracts  of  land  were  parcelled  out  among  Cromwell's 
soldiers. 

Under   Charles  II.,  Ireland  still  suffered.      In   1063 


80 


silt  nOBEllT  PEEL. 


'  t 


n 


Irish  ships  were  oxchuled  from  the  privileges  of  English 
ships  under  the  Navigation  Act.  In  1GG5  and  1680  Irish 
live-stock  or  meat  and  batter  Avere  forbidden  to  be  ex- 
ported from  Ireland  into  England.  Later  it  was  declared 
that  no  goods  should  be  imported  from  the  colonies  to 
Ireland,  and  tlie  exportation  of  Irish  manufactured  wool 
to  all  countries  was  prohibited  in  1699.  Smuggling  re- 
sulted ;  but  Irish  industries  were  soon  either  crippled  or 
destroyed.  Tlie  hatred  towards  England  was,  if  possible, 
intensified  by  all  this. 

After  William  and  oMary  came  to  the  throne  in  1689, 
and  James  II.  was  defeated  by  William,  on  the  banks  of 
the  Boyne,  July  1,  1690.  matters  grew  worse  for  Ireland. 
William  gave  as  rewards  for  military  or  civil  service,  one 
hundred  and  thirty  thousand  acres  of  land  in  Ireland  to 
Bentinck,  afterwards  Lord  Portland;  one  hundred  thou- 
sand acres  to  Kt'ppel,  afterwards  Lord  Albemarle  ;  and  to 
other  friends  in  like  manner.  Severe  penal  laws  were 
passed  against  the  Catholics.  A  reward  of  one  hundred 
pounds  was  offered  for  the  conviction  of  any  priest  who 
exercised  his  religious  functions,  with  the  penalty,  im- 
prisonment for  life. 

"  The  Penal  Laws,"  says  Justin  Huntly  McCarthy  in 
his  ''Ireland  since  the  Union,"  "did  their  best  to  insure 
that  no  such  person  should  exist  as  an  Irish  Catholic. 
...  A  Catholic  could  not  sit  upon  the  benches  of  the 
Lords  or  Commons  of  the  Irish  Parliament.  He  could 
not  record  his  v^ote  for  the  election  of  a  member  of  Par- 
liament ;  he  could  not  serve  in  the  army  or  the  navy  ;  he 
could  not  plead  at  the  bar,  or  give  judgment  from  the 
bench;  he  could  not  become  a  magistrate,  or  a  member 
of  a  corporation,  or  serve  on  grand  juries,  or  in  vestries ; 
he  could  not  be  a  sheriff,  gamekeeper,  or  a  constable ;  he 


sin   nOBERT  PEEL. 


31 


could  not  givo  oduoation  ;  he  could  not  receive  educa- 
tion ;  he  could  not  send  his  children  abroad  to  be  edu- 
cated. .  .  . 

"  Every  Catholic  was  liable  to  a  fine  of  sixty  pounds  a 
month  for  not  attending  a  place  of  Protestant  worship, 
and  at  any  time  any  two  justices  of  the  peace  could  call 
a  Catholic  over  sixteen  years  before  them,  and  bestow 
what  property  he  possessed  upon  his  next  of  kin  if  he 
refused  to  turn  from  his  faith.  ...  A  Protestant  might 
at  any  time  compel  a  Catholic  to  sell  him  his  horse,  how- 
ever valuable,  for  live  pounds,  and  the  horses  of  Catholics 
could  always  be  seized  without  payment,  for  the  use  of 
the  militia.  .  .  . 

"  The  eldest  son  of  a  Catholic,  upon  apostatizing,  be- 
came heir-at-law  to  the  whole  estate  of  his  father,  and 
reduced  his  father  to  the  position  of  a  mere  life-tenant. 
An  apostate  wife  was  immediately  freed  from  her  hus- 
band's control,  and  assigned  a  certain  proportion  of  her 
husband's  property.  Any  child,  however  young,  who 
professed  the  Protestant  faith,  was  immediately  removed 
from  its  parent's  care,  and  a  portion  of  the  parental 
property  assigned  to  it.  Furthermore,  no  marriage  be- 
tween a  Catholic  and  a  Protestant  was  recognized  by  the 
law." 

While  these  laws  after  a  time  were  not  usually  en- 
forced, the  greatest  bitterness  was  engendered  by  them. 
The  cond'Mon  of  the  people  was  pitiable.  Dr.  W.  K. 
Sullivan,  p  ^  ddent  of  Queen's  College,  Cork,  says,  "The 
destruction  of  manufacturing  industry,  the  restriction  of 
trade,  the  falling  of  the  land  out  of  cultivation,  the  con- 
version of  arable  land  into  pasture,  the  drain  ^'rom  ab- 
sentee rents  and  pensions,  and  the  cost  of  imported 
luxuries,  had  gradually  impoverished  the  kingdom  to  an 
alarming  extent.  .  .  . 


i-'i 


82 


Slli   nOBEltT  PEEL. 


'^Tlie  peasants  were  always  on  tlio  brink  of  starva- 
tion, and  were  now  entering  upon  a  period  of  famines  — 
five  or  six  in  the  course  of  twenty  years  —  culminating 
in  the  dire  famine  and  its  accompanying  pestilence,  or 
hunger-fev  ?r,  of  1741,  in  which  four  hundred  thousand 
2)ersons  peiished." 

All  this  injustice  helped  to  bring  about  the  insurrection 

of  1798. 

The  United  Irishmen,  an  association  of  men  who  led 
the  revolt,  consisted  of  both  Protestants  and  Catliolics. 
The  rebellion  was  suppressed,  and  a  union  with  Great 
Britain  was  effected  in  1800;  not  a  union  of  willing 
people,  but  a  union  obtained  in  part  by  conr[uest,  and  in 
part  by  corrupt  use  of  money. 

To  effect  this  union,  says  Mr.  George  Sigerson,  Fellow 
of  the  Iioyal  University,  Dublin,  in  "Two  Centuries  of 
Iri'.h  History,"  "compensations  were  to  be  granted,  not 
only  to  borough  proprietors,  and  for  prinuiry  and  second- 
ary interests  in  counties,  and  purchasers,  but  to  barris- 
ters and  private  individuals.  Lord  Castleieagh  consid- 
ered that  dtJ  1,500,000  would  be  required  to  effect  all  these 
compensations. 

"  The  flesh-pots  were  oj^en,  and  the  fumes  intoxicat- 
ing. They  attracted  all  appetites  if  the}'  did  not  satisfy 
all  hunger.  .  .  .  Other  gallant  hearts  were  tempted  in 
vain.  Cornwallis  went  on  with  the  evil  work,  groaning 
over  its  filthiness,  fully  conscious  of  his  ow:\  iniquity. 
It  was  the  wish  of  his  life  to  ^avoid  all  this  dirty  busi- 
ness,' but  he  carried  it  on.  His  was  Hhe  most  cursed  of 
all  situations,'  but  he  did  not  resign  it.  He  declared  he 
longed  to  kick  those  whom  \\o  courted ;  but  \w  pi'eferred 


to  play  the  hypocrite. 


He  persisted  in  terrorizing 


and  in  tainting,  and,  while  corrupting,  he  moaned  over 


SIR   liOliEirr   PEEL. 


33 


the  corruptness  of  the  Union  proselytes :  '  My  oceu}>a- 
tion  is  now  of  the  most  uniih-asant  nature  —  negotiating 
and  jobbing  with  th«'  most  corrupt  peoph^  under  heaven. 
I  desjjise  and  hate  myself  every  hour  for  engaging  in 
such  dirty  work.' '' 

There  was  an  uprising  against  the  Union  three  years 
later,  July  2.'>,  LSO.'],  when  Robert  Emmet,  young  and 
gifted,  attempted  to  free  his  country  through  a  fovlorn 
hope.  He  could  have  escaped  to  France,  but  desiring  to 
see  once  more  the  young  lady  to  \vhom  he  was  engaged, 
Sarah,  the  daughter  of  the  elo(pient  Curran,  he  remained, 
was  arrested,  and  hanged  September  20,  writing,  just 
before  his  death,  that  touching  letter  to  her  brother 
Richard,  so  often  quoted :  "  I  never  did  tell  you  how 
I  idolized  her.  It  was  not  with  a  wild  or  unfounded 
passion,  but  it  was  an  attachment  increasing  every 
hour,  from  an  admiration  of  the  purity  of  her  mind, 
and  respect  for  her  talents.  .  .  .  My  love,  Sarah ! 
It  was  not  thus  that  I  thought  to  have  requited  your 
affection.  I  had  hoped  to  be  a  prop  round  which  your 
affections  might  have  clung,  and  which  would  never 
have  been  shaken  ;  but  a  rude  blast  has  snapped  it,  and 
they  have  fallen  over  a  grave  !  " 

From  this  time  onward,  Ireland,  under  the  leadership 
of  a  young  barrister,  Daniel  O'Connell,  fought  for  Cath- 
olic Emancipation, —  relief  from  the  civil  and  political 
disabilities  under  which  Roman  Catholics  still  suffered. 
William  Pitt,  before  the  Act  of  Union  was  passed,  had 
encouraged  the  people  of  Ireland  to  feel  that  emancipa- 
tion would  follow.  George  III.  was,  however,  unalter- 
ably opposed  to  it,  believing  that  Rrotestant  ascendency 
was  a  necessity  for  tlie  control  of  Ireland. 

Pitt  proposed  a  measure  for  the  relief  of  the  Catholics 


IM 


(!      1 


;u 


SI  I!    liOliKliT  PKKL. 


11 


ISOI.  l.ut  tlio  Kill-  opposed  it,  an.l  Pitt  and  his 
I'ri, .11,1s  ivsi-iicd.  WluMi  li.'  a.u^iin  bpf-anie  Prime  Minis- 
t.T  ill  ISOlJir  promised  the  obstinate  George  ITT.  not 
to  hiiii-  up  tlu'  Catholic  question  again.  Pitt  died  Jan- 
uirv  '_'•■!.  ISOC).  Fox.  wlio  had  labored  for  Catholic 
HiiniHipatioii.  died  in  September  of  tlie  sam.>  year. 

Another  great  man  was  giving  his  heart  and  voiee  to 
Cailiolie  Kmaiieipation.  — the  eloquent  and  noble  ITenry 
(irMttan.  \W.  a  Protestant,  had  obtaim-d  for  Ireland  a 
few  years  of  comparative  peace  and  prosperity.  Tn 
17SL'.  at  an  opportune  moment,  after  England  had  lost 
the  American  Colonies.  Ic  had  won  for  his  country  an 
indei)endeiit  Parliament.  Ireland,  in  gratitude,  machi 
him  a  gift  of  fifty  thousand  pounds.  Measures  of  ndief 
^vere  passed  by  this  Parliament.  Public;  buildings  were 
constructe(h  and  the  people  seemed  ...ippier  than  for 
centuries  before.  Yet  there  wen^  still  many  causes  of 
discontent.  The  disabiliti(>s  against  Catholics  had  not 
been  i'eii!oved..nor  the  comniereial  restrictions.  In  1785 
Pitt  hail  lavored  the  importation  of  goods  through 
Great  Pritain  into  Irelainl  or  ricr  rcrsa,  without  increase 
of  duty  ;  but  a  number  of  English  towns  remonstrated 
so  vigorously  —  the  Lancashire  manufacturers  sending  a 
jx'tition  against  the  pro[)osal  with  eighty  thousand  sig- 
natur<'^ — that  tin;  measure  was  dropped. 

There  were  various  factions  also  in  Trehand.  ''  First 
of  all,"  says  ^Fr.  Gladstone^,  reviewing  the  condition  of 
Treland  under  (irattan's  Parliament,  ''there  was  a  small 
section  of  the  |K)pulati(jn  who  conducted  the  Govern- 
ment mainly  with  a  view  to  jobbing,  and  to  })ersonal  inter- 
ests—  a  very  important  section,  on  account  of  the  power 
which  they  not  uniformly,  but  frequently,  exercised 
upon  tlie  English  Covernmeut  with  regard  to  its  policy 
in  Ireland, 


Slli    UOIlKIiT   I' EEL. 


85 


"Tlicn  tlioro  was  tlio  Prcsbytfrian  partv  ;  tliou'-li  tlicv 
were  not  less  Trotestaiit  than  the  otlior,  they  had  little 
or  nothin<'  to  do  with  the  fjovernnicnt.  Thev,  on  the 
contrary,  had  at  that  period  a  strong  inclination  to 
repnhlicanism.  Then  there  was  the  executive  govern- 
iiicnt  [ind  the  liritish  interest  concentrated  in  Dublin 
(-astle,  which  has  ever  sitice,  and  certainly  recently, 
IxM'onic  ;i  })roverl)ial  expression,  conveying  but  little  to 
the  minds  of  Englishmen,  but  conveying  a  great  deal  to 
the  minds  of  Irishmen.  It  exercised  a  great  and  power- 
ful intiuence. 

''Then  I  look  at  the  Koman  Catholic  majority,  but  I 
cannot  treat  the  Koman  Catholic  majority  of  that  ])eri()d 
as  being  entindy  one.  It  is  quite  clear  that  both  the 
Rom;in  (,'atholic  aristocracy  and  prelates  stood  in  a  posi- 
tion distinct  from  the  mass  of  the  lloman  Catholic 
people,  and  were  liable  to  act  on  inducements  ludd  out 
to  them  from  this  side  of  the  water.  Then  there  was 
the  great  interest  of  the  landlords." 

After  saying  that  the  Irish  Tarliament  "  made  great 
and  b('n(dieial  changes  in  the  laws  of  Ireland,"  Glad- 
stone adds :  '•'  Whatever  vices  it  had,  and  whatever 
defects  it  had,  it  had  a  true  and  genuine  sentiment  of 
nationality ;  and,  gentlemen,  the  loss  of  the  s})irit  of 
niiionality  is  the  heaviest  and  the  most  deplorable  and 
the  most  degrading  loss  that  any  country  can  undergo. 
Iii  the  Irish  I*a,rliament,  with  all  its  faults,  the  spirit  of 
nationality  subsisted;  and  I  say  it  with  grief  and  shame 
that  it  is  my  own  conclusion  and  my  own  conviction 
that  the  main  object  of  the  Irish  Legislative  Union  on 
the  part  of  those  who  planned  it  and  brought  it  about, 
was  to  depress  and  W(\dcen.  and.  if  possible,  to  extin- 
guish, that  spirit  of  Irish  nationality." 


ae 


SIR   nOUERT  REEL. 


In  1793  Catholics  were  allowed  to  vote,  thoagh  not 
to  sit  in  Parliament.  They  were  also  allowed  to  hold 
any  commission  in  the  army  up  to  the  rank  of  colonel, 
in  Ireland,  but  not  in  Great  Britain. 

In  1705  Grattan  brought  a  bill  for  the  relief  of  Cath- 
olics '-.gain  before  Parliament,  but  it  was  defeated,  and 
the  discontent  soon  developed  into  the  rebellion  of  17l)S. 
Gratcan  opposed  the  Union  in  an  eloquent  speech.  ''  Yet 
I  do  not  give  up  the  country,"  he  said.  "I  see  her  in  a 
swoon,  but  she  is  not  dead ;  though  in  her  tomb  she  lies 
helpless  and  motionless,  still  there  is  on  her  lips  a 
spirit  of  life,  and  on  her  cheek  a  glow  of  beauty." 
Grattan  died  in  1820,  and  was  buried  in  Westminster 
Abbey  with  distinguished  honors. 

Sydney  Smith  said  of  him  :  ''  The  highest  attainments 
of  human  genius  were  within  his  reach  ;  but  he  thought 
the  noblest  occupation  of  a  man  was  to  make  other  men 
happy  and  free,  and  in  that  straight  line  he  kept  for 
fifty  years,  without  one  side-look,  one  yielding  thought, 
one  motive  in  his  heart  which  might  not  have  laid  open 
to  the  view  of  God  or  man." 

Daniel  O'Connell  took  up  Catholic  Emancipation  long 
before  Grattan  had  finished  his  work.  In  1823  a  new 
Catholic  association  was  organized,  and  O'Connell 
became  its  leading  si)irit.  Two  years  later,  England, 
becoming  alarmed  at  the  rapidity  of  its  growth,  passed 
an  Act  of  Parliament  for  its  suppression.  It  might  be 
suppressed  i\\  name,  but  could  not  be  in  s])irit. 

O'Connell  determined  to  stand  for  Clare,  and  be 
elected  to  Parliament  even  though  Catholics  were 
excluded.  The  "  suppressed  "  association  at  once  raised 
fourteen  thousand  pounds  to  pay  his  ("lection  expenses. 
Immense  meetings  were  held,  and  Ireland  was  at  white 
heat. 


SIR  no  BERT  PEEL. 


37 


Peel  all  tins  time  Wcas  strongly  opposed  to  Catholic 
Emancipation.  He  had  been  taught  from  his  boyhood 
that  Protestant  ascendency  was  necessary  to  the  peace 
of  Ireland,  and  perhaps  more  necessary  still  to  the 
peace  of  England.  He  had  been  elected  from  Oxford 
University,  instead  of  Canning,  on  account  of  his  well- 
known  oi)position.  He  believed  that  the  Union  would 
be  endangered,  and  that  the  Establislicd  Church  in 
Ireland  would  be  overthrown,  if  tlie  Catholics  were 
admitted  to  power ;  the  disestablishment  of  the  Church 
was  to  take  place  later  under  Gladstone. 

Peel  said  in  one  of  his  most  powerful  speeches  :  "  If 
you  give  them  that  fair  proportion  of  political  power  to 
which  their  numbers,  wealth,  talents,  and  education  will 
entitle  them,  can  you  believe  that  they  will  or  can 
remain  contented  with  the  limits  which  you  assign  to 
them  ?  Do  you  think,  that  when  they  constitute,  as 
they  must  do  (not  this  year  or  next,  but  in  the  natural 
and  therefore  certain  order  of  things),  by  far  the  most 
powerful  body  in  Ireland  —  the  body  most  controlling 
and  directing  tlu^  government  of  it, — do  you  think,  I 
say,  that  they  will  view  with  satisfaction  the  state  of 
your  Clu'rch,  or  their  own  ? 

"•  Do  you  think  that  if  they  are  constituted  like  other 
nuMi  ;  if  they  have  organs,  senses,  affections,  passions, 
like  yourselves;  if  they  are  —  a^  no  doubt  they  are  — 
sincere  and  zealous  professors  of  that  religious  faith  to 
which  they  belong;  if  they  believe  your  intrusive 
Church  to  have  usur})ed  the  temporalities  which  it  pos- 
sesses,—  do  you  think  that  they  will  not  aspire  to  the 
re-establishment  of  their  own  Church,  in  all  its  ancient 
splendor  ?  " 

Again  Peel  said,  "For  a  space  o''.  eighteen  years,  1 


38 


SIR   UOliEUT  PEEL. 


have  pursiio'l  one  undeviating  course  of  conduct,  offering, 
during  the  whole  of  tliat  time,  an  uncompromising,  but 
a  temperate  and  fair,  and,  as  I  believe,  a  constitutional 
resistance,  to  the  making  of  any  further  concessions 
towards  the  Jvoman  Catholics.'' 

O'Connell  was  elected  to  Parliament.  If  he  were  not 
allowed  to  take  his  seat,  another  rebellion  was  probable. 
The  Irish  people  were  only  waiting  for  his  bidding.  '•  He 
had,''  says  Justin  McCarthy,  "all  the  impulsiveness,  the 
quick-changing  emotions,  tlie  passionate,  exaggerated 
loves  and  hatreds,  the  heedlessness  of  statement,  the 
tendency  to  confound  impressions  with  facts,  the  ebul- 
lient humor  —  all  the  other  rpialities  that  are  especially 
characteristic  of  the  Celt.  .  .  .  He  had  a  herculean 
frame,  a  stately  presence,  a  face  capable  of  ex[)ressing 
easily  and  effectively  the  most  ra})id  alteriuitions  of 
mood,  and  a  voice  which  all  hearers  a.dmit  to  have  been 
abnost  unrivalled  for  strength  ami  sweetness.  .  .  .  He 
sj^oke  without  studied  preparation,  and  of  cours?  had 
all  the  defects  of  such  a  style.  ...  He  always  spoke 
right  to  the  hearts  of  his  hearers." 

Tne  Duke  ot  Wellington  was  at  this  time  Prime  ^linis- 
ter.  He  too  was  op.posed  to  Catholic  Emancipation.  Pc.d 
wrote  to  the  Duke  that  the  time  had  come  to  act  on  the 
Catholic  question.  He  wished  to  re-sign,  but  the  Duke 
would  not  consent.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  George  IV., 
the  Bishops,  and  the  House  of  Lords  were  all  heartily 
opi-.osed  to  Catholic  Emancipation.  Peel  resigned  for 
Oxford,  but  stood  for  re-election,  and  was  deteat(Ml, 
because  they  knew  the  course  he  wonld  take.  It  required 
courage  to  propose  and  introduce  a  measure  against  which 
he  had  fought  for  eighteen  yeai's.  P»ut  he  had  resolved 
to  do  it. 


^ 


SIR    ROBEUr  PEEL. 


39 


Peel  caiul  the  Duke  had  an  audience  with  George  IV. 
for  tive  hours.  The  monarch  was  furious,  and  the  Cab- 
inet resigned.  Soon  he  grew  sorry  for  wJiat  he  had 
done,  and  requested  them  to  continue  in  otHce. 

j\[ar(di J^JJ^iO:.  tlie    eventful   day    came.      -Crowds 
be^iTuT assemble  in  the  avenues  heading  to  the  lU.use 
of  "commons,"  says   Dr.  W.  Cooke   Tayhn-.  in    his    Liie 
and  Times  of  Sir  Robert  Peel,  "  so  early  as  ten  o'clock, 
though  it  was  known  that  the  doors  would  not  be  open 
untirpast  six   in  the   evening.     At  noon   an    immense 
multitude  had  collected,  and  the  pressure  was  so  sey(>re 
that  many  persons  were  slightly  injured.  ...  A  little 
after   six,   the    gallery   was  opened,  and   the   rush  was 
tremendous:    coats  were  torn,  hats  were  lost,  and  sides 
were  bruised;  it  seemed  a  miracle   that   uo  lives,  were 
lost,  and  no  bones  broken.  ... 

"On  Mr.  l*eel,  every  eye  was  lix^d :  he  sat  with  folded 
arms  and  compressed  lips,  as  one  who  had  formod  his 
resolution  with  pain,  but  was  resolved  to  maintain  it 
with  inflexible  determination.  A  pin  might  hav.'  been 
lieard  to  fall  as  he  rose,  and  with  a  voice  which  once  or 
twice  faltered,  moved  that  the  clerk  should  r(>ad  the^part 
of  the  royal  speecu  relating  to  Catholic  disabiliti.^s." 

Peel  spoke  for  four  hours,  making  one  of  the  great 
speeches  of  his  life.  Ho  reviewed  the  history  of  1  iv- 
huid,  and  told  the  imperative  iiood  of  concession  to 
Ireland's  demands.  TMu^  cheering  was  so  loud  and  pro- 
loH'-vd  that  it  was  heard  in  Palace  Yard. 

Peel  franklv  sai.l  in  his  speech  :  "Tlu'  credit  belongs 
to  others,  and" not  to  me.  It  belongs  to  Mr.  Vox.  to  Mr. 
C  rattan,  to  :\Ir.  riunkett,  to  the  gentleman  opposite,  and 
to  an  illustrious  and  right  honorable  Irieiul  of  mine  who 
is  now  no  more  [Canning]. 


40 


sm   no II FAIT  PEEL. 


''I  am  well  aware  that  the  fate  of  this  measure  cannot 
now  be  altered  ;  if  it  succeeds,  the  credit  will  belong  to 
others ;  if  it  fail,  the  responsibility  will  devolve  upon 
me  and  upon  those  with  whom  I  have  acted.  These 
chances,  with  the  loss  of  private  friendship  and  the 
alienation  of  public  coniidence,  I  must  have  foreseen 
and  calculated  upon  before  I  ventured  to  recommend 
tliese  measures.  ...  I  am  convinced  that  the  time  will 
come,  though  I  may  not  live  to  see  it,  when  full  justice 
will  be  done  by  men  of  all  parties  to  the  motives  on 
which  I  have  acted." 

Peel  was  vilified  on  every  hand.  He  was  denounced 
as  a  traitor  to  his  i)arty,  and  as  an  a[)ostate  from  his 
church.  A  man  of  great  sensitiveness  of  nature,  he 
must  have  felt  all  this  deeply.  Yet  he  knew  wdiat  was 
in  store  for  him.  Twenty  years  later  he  wrote  that  he 
foresaw  '"the  penalties  to  which  the  course  I  resolved  to 
take  would  expose  me  :  the  rage  of  part}',  the  rejection 
by  the  University  of  Oxford,  the  alienation  of  i)rivate 
friends,  the  interruption  of  family  affe(;tions." 

Sir  Edward  Lytton  ]3ulwer  says  in  his  sketch  of  Peel : 
"There  can  be  little  doubt  that  he  pre  ,'ented  a  civil  war, 
in  which  many  of  the  most  eminent  statesmen  of  foreign 
countries  would  have  considered  that  the  Irish  Catholics 
were,  in  the  right." 

Peel's  father,  the  first  Sir  Robert,  died  the  following 
year,  ]\[ay  3,  I80O,  leaving  each  of  his  six  sons  about 
£lo5,()00,  each  of  his  five  daughters  £5o,0()(),  and  liis.son 
Ptobert  his  title  to  the  baronetcv,  tli(^  mansion  of  Drav- 
ton  Manor,  and  an  immense  fortune.  The  personal 
property  of  the  first  Sir  Ptobert  exceeded  £900,000. 
The  probate  stamp  was  ,4;Jir>,0(IO.  He  lived  to  see  his 
son  Kobcrt  all  that  he  could  wish,  and  several  of  his 
other  chiMrcii  in  important  olfices. 


sin  RonKiiT  p.:el. 


41 


George  IV.  died  June  2G  of  the  same  year,  1830,  and 
the  citizens  of  London  made  the  day  of  his  funeral  a 
holiday.  The  accession  of  his  successor,  "William  lY., 
was  liailed  with  deli<dit. 

l*eel  was  now  called  to  face  another  great  (question, 
the  extension  of  the  franchise.  Lord  John  Russell  and 
some  others  had  taken  an  active  part  in  reform.  The 
Duke  of  AVellington,  then  l^rime  Minister,  was  opposed, 
and  said,  '•  I  am  not  prei)ared  with  any  measure  of  par- 
liamentary reform,  nor  shall  any  measure  of  the  kind  be 
proposed  by  the  government,  as  long  as  I  hold  my  pres- 
ent ])Osition." 

The  result  was  that  the  Duke  did  noL  long  hold  liis 
position ;  the  government  was  overthrown,  and  the 
Keformers  came  into  power. 

Parliamentary  Reform  had  been  agitated  for  years. 
In  1822  Lord  John  Russell's  motion,  "that  the  present 
state  of  representation  requires  serious  consideration," 
was  rejected  by  10;\  jNEeetings  were  hold,  and  petitions 
presented.  Finally,  JNIarch  1,  18ol,  Lord  John  brought 
in  his  Reform  Rill.  It  was  greeted  with  loud  peals  of 
huigliLer.  The  debate  lasted  seven  nights.  Peel  speak- 
ing against  the  bill. 

Rulwer  thus  describes  Peel  at  this  time:  "He  was 
tall  and  powerfully  built.  His  body  somewhat  bulky 
for  his  limbs,  his  head  small  and  well  formed,  his 
features  regular.  His  countenance  was  not  what  would 
be  generally  called  expressive,  but  it  was  capable  of 
taking  the  expression  he  wished  to  give  it,  humor,  sar- 
casm, persuasion,  and  command  being  its  alternative 
characteristics. 

"The  character  of  the  man  was  seen  more,  however, 
in  the  whole  person  th;;n  in  the  face.     He  did  not  stoop, 


I.. I 


42 


SIR   nOBERT  PEEL. 


but  he  bent  forwards.  .  .  .  The  stop  showed  no  doubt 
or  apprehension  ;  it  could  hardly  be  called  stealthy,  but 
it  glided  on  Hrmly  and  cautiously,  without  haste  or  swag- 
ger or  unevenness ;  and  as  lie  quietly  walked  from  the 
bar  to  his  seat,  he  looked  round  him,  as  if  scanning  the 
assembly,  and  when  anytliing  jmrticular  was  expected, 
sat  down  with  an  air  of    preparation  for  the  coming 

contest. 

"The  oftener  you  heard  liim  speak,  the  more  his 
speaking  gained  upon  you.  .  .  .  ITe  never  seemed  occu- 
pied with  himself.  His  effort  was  evidently  directed  to 
convince  you,  not  that  he  was  eloquent,  but  that  he  was 
right.  .  .  .  Tliongh  there  was  nothing  like  assumption  or 
pretension  in  his  manner,  there  was  a  tone  of  superi- 
ority, which  he  justified  by  a  great  store  of  knowledge, 
a  clear  and  impressive  style,  and  a  constant  readiness  to 
discuss  any  (juestion  that  arose." 

The  Keformers  determined  to  appeal  to  the  country. 
Great  excitement  ensued.  One  member  declared  that 
the  lieform  l)ill  would  tet'r  the  crown  from  the  head  of 
the  sovereign.  I'eel  forgot  his  usual  calmness  and  self- 
possession,  and  in  the  midst  of  cheers  and  groans  and 
cries  of  order,  said,  "  I  will  tell  you  what  you  are  about 
to  establish  by  a  reformed  Parliament.  If  the  bill  ])r()- 
posed  by  ministers  be  carried,  it  will  introduce  the  very 
worst  and  vilest  species  of  despotism,  —  the  desi)otisni 
)f  demagogues,  the  desjiotism  of  journalism,  — that  des- 
potism which  has  brouglit  neighboring  countries,  once 
happy  and  flourishing,  to  the  very  brink  of  ruin  and 
des])air." 

William  IV.  dissolved  rarliann  iit  in  person.  l>oth 
parties  were  active,  those  for  and  against  reform. 
Before  the  general  elections,  in  fifteen  days,  Teel  s[)oke 


SIR  UOliEltT  PEEL. 


43 


I 


forty-eight  times,  Sir  Charles  Wetherell  fifty-eight  times, 
and  others  as  man}',  but  the  Reformers  won  a  majority. 

Lord  John  llussell  introduced  his  new  bill  June  24. 
On  the  third  meeting  the  battle  was  vehement.  "Peel," 
says  Greville  in  his  ^Memoirs,  "closed  the  debate  on 
Thursday  night  with  a  very  fine  speech,  the  best  (one  of 
his  opponents  told  me,  and  it  is  no  use  asking  the  opin- 
ion of  friends  if  a  candid  opponent  is  co  be  found)  he 
had  ever  made,  not  only  on  that  subject,  but  on  any 
other :  he  cut  ]\racaulay  to  ribbons.  ^Nlacaulay  is  very 
brilliant,  but  his  speeches  are  harangues,  and  never 
replies ;  whereas  Peel's  long  experience  and  real  talent 
for  debate  give  him  a  great  advantage  in  the  power  of 
reply,  whicli  he  eminently  possesses."  The  bill  passed 
the  House  of  Commons  by  109,  but  was  rejected  by  the 
House  of  Lords  by  41. 

At  once  the  country  seemed  on  the  verge  of  revolu- 
tion. Iliots  took  place  in  Nottingham,  liristol,  and  other 
towns.  In  lU'istol,  the  mob  burned  the  ^Mansion  House, 
ill  which  Sir  Charles  Wetherell  had  taken  refuge,  beat 
down  the  doors  of  the  ]n'isons  and  released  the  prisoners, 
and  at  one  time  had  forty-two  dwellings  and  warehouses 
cdl  in  flames.  The  windows  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington 
were  broken,  and  the  cry  everywhere  was,  "The  bill, 
the  whole  bill,  and  nothing  but  the  bill."  In  Notting- 
ham, the  ancient  castle,  once  a  royal  residence,  but  at 
this  time  owned  by  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  was  sacked 
and  burned. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  turmoil,  cholera  broke  out. 
Some  of  the  clergy  opposed  to  reform  declared  that 
"this  mysterious  visitation  was  a  judgment  of  Provi- 
dence on  the  nation  for  middling  witli  institutions  con- 
secrated by  religious  associations  and  cionvictions." 


44 


SIR  nonEUT  PEEL. 


The  rioters  were  arrested,  and  twenty-one  were  capi- 
tally convicted,  for  this  '•  meddling  with  institutions 
consecrated  by  religious  associations." 

Parliauient  met  again  in  Decemler,  I80I,  and  the  bill 
passed  the  lIoi'-.eof  Commons  in  the  following  Mi.Tch, 
But  the  House  oi  Lords  stood  out  against  the  measure. 

Great  meetings  were  held  at  Birmingham  and  else- 
where, with  150,000  persons  in  attendance.  These  meet- 
iii'-'s  declared  that  if  the  Lords  threw  out  the  bill,  there 
was  reason  to  expect  "that  the  ultimate  consequence 
might  be  the  utter  extinction  of  the  privileged  orders." 
It  seemed  necessary  for  King  William  to  create  enough 
new  peers  to  carry  the  bill.  This  Lord  Grey,  then  Prime 
Minister,  and  Lord  Brougham  urged  him  to  do.  He 
refused,  and  the  ministers  resigned.  William's  carriage 
was  now  mobbed  in  the  streets  whenever  it  appeared. 

Peel  saw,  as  he  had  seen  in  the  time  of  Catholic 
Emancijjation,  that  reform  nuist  come,  or  civil  war  would 
be  the  result,  but  Wellington  did  not  see  it.  ]Macaulay 
twitted  Peel  with  his  forced  conversions ;  but  Peel  was 
man  enough  to  do  what  was  best  for  liis  country,  even  if 
not  in  accordance  with  his  own  wishes.  He  ceased  to 
oppose  the  measure,  and  said  that  reform  was  inevitable. 
"I  have  been  uniformly  opposed  to  reform  on  {)rinci])le," 
he  once  said  to  Brougham,  '"'because  I  was  unwilling  to 
open  a  door  which  I  saw  no  prospect  of  being  able  to 
close."  The  door  was  opened  wider  still  by  J^israeli  in 
the  Reform  Bill  of  1807,  and  by  Gladstone  in  the  ll(;form 
Bill  of  1885,  and  will  probably  never  be  closed  again. 

William  IV.  reluctantly  consented  to  the  creation  of 
new  peers  ;  this  was  finally  avoided,  thruugh  the  King's 
request  of  the  opposition  to  oppose  no  more.  The  bill 
passed  the  ]  louse  of  Lords  by  lOG  to  22. 


SIR   BOB  BUT  PEEL. 


45 


The  Reform  l>ill  of  1832  disfraiicliised  fifty-six  nomi- 
nation boroughs,  and  took  away  one  member  from  many 
others,  leaving  vacant  one  hundred  and  forty-three  seats. 
It  enfranchised  many  counties,  nineteen  large  towns, — 
such  as  Manchester,  Leeds,  and  lUrmingham,  including 
the  metropolitan  districts.  Tenants-at-will  paying  fifty 
pounds  a  year  were  enfranchised,  and  in  the  towns  a  ten- 
pound  household  franchise  was  established. 

Peel  accepted  the  situation,  but  with  the  Duke  deter- 
mined to  watch  the  lengths  to  wliich  the  Keformed  Tar- 
liament  might  go.  Wellington  said  to  Greville  :  "  I  mean 
to  support  the  government  —  support  them  in  every  way. 
The  first  thing  I  have  to  look  to  is  to  keep  my  house 
over  my  head,  and  the  alternative  is  between  this  gov- 
ernment and  none  at  all."  No  disturbances  resulted 
from  the  reform  in  the  franchise,  which  proved  an 
eminently  wise  measure.  During  the  next  two  years 
Tarliament  S[)ent  its  time  in  passing  coercion  bills  for 
Ireland,  reforming  the  Irish  church,  abolishing  slavery 
in  the  colonies,  and  i)assing  the  Poor  Law  Amendment 
Act.  l*eel  spoke  against  the  motion  of  Grote,  the  his- 
torian, on  voting  by  ballot,  by  wl  luh  each  voter  might 
deposit  his  paper  in  a  box  with  the  Jiames  of  the  candi- 
dates unseen ;  a  measure  not  carried  till  nearly  forty 
years  later,  by  V/illiam  Edward  Forster. 

Mr. 'l*eel  said,  'vlf  we  are  to  admit  vote  by  ballot,  it 
will  only  be  the  prelude  to  further  demands ;  and  there 
is  nothing  to  hinder  any  member  from  coming  forward 
the  following  day  to  ask  us  to  adopt  universal  suffrage, 
or  any  other  plan  whicli  may  be  popular.  There  is  no 
system  which  has  not  i)lausible'  arguments  in  ftivor  of 
its  adoption,  and  certainly  the  theoretical  arguments  in 
favor  of  universal  suffrage  are  at  least  as  strong  as  those 
in  favor  of  the  ballot. 


40 


sin  lioiiKirr  i'EEl. 


'•There  iiiv  :irL,niiiii'iits  in  favor  of  oxtondirg  the 
franchise  to  uemeii.  to  whieli  it  wouhl  be  no  easy 
matter  to  liii<l  any  lo.i^ieal  answer.  Utlier  and  more 
inqiortant  dnties  are  intrusted  to  women;  women  are 
uHowcd  to  hold  proi)erty,  to  vote  on  many  occasions  in 
ri-ht  of  tliat  property —  nay,  a  woman  may  iidierit  the 
tliroiie.  and  perform  all  the  functions  of  the  first  office 
of  the  state  ;  why  should  they  not  vote  for  a  member  of 
Parliament  ?  " 

In  the  autumn  of  1831,  Peid  to(dv  his  wif(>  and  dau-^diter 
Julia  to  Italy  for  the  winter.  Uut  he  was  snmmoiu'd 
home  by  the  Kini,'  to  be.-ome  Prime  ^Minister.  Sir 
Pvobert  and  Lady  Peel  left  Ptome  November  I'f).  and 
reached  Dover  December  S,  having  travelled  from  Kome 
to  Calais  by  carriage.  The  Duke  of  \Vellingt()n  became 
Foreign  Secretary  in  the  Peel  ministry,  and  William 
Ewart  Gladstone  Under  Secretary  for  the  colonies. 

Peel  v\'as  now  forty-six  years  of  age.  Hi'  held  office 
for  only  a  few  months.  William  IV.  died  ,]\\\w  20,  1837, 
and  his  niece  Victoria  c;inie  to  the  throne  at  the  age  of 
eighteen.  England  rejoiced,  and  has  had  occasion  to 
rejoice  ever  since  that  a  good  woman  rules  the  nation. 
The  darkness  of  the  (rcorgian  era  has  helped  to  make 
the  Victorian  era  evi'U  more  luminous. 

In  1839  the  Queen  asked  Peel  to  be  Prime  Minister. 
The  ladit'S  of  her  ^Majesty's  household  were  all  Whigs. 
Peel  felt  that  they  might  have  undue  influence  u[)on  his 
administration,  and  asked,  as  a  condition  of  his  accept- 
ance, that  the  more  jjrominent  of  them  be  re})laced  by 
ladies  on  the  Tory  side.  To  this  the  (,)ueen  would  not 
consent.     The  matter  waf-'  brought  before  ParliaiUv^-nt. 

0'Conn(^il.  as  usual  on  the  side  opposed  to  Peel,  took 
the  part  of  ''the  young  creatun^  ^that  creature  of  only 


siii  noiiKirr  pkkl. 


r* 


ninotoon.  ns  ]inr(»  as  slic  is  exalted.  .  .  .  Those  exccl^Mit 
women,  who  liad  been  so  lontif  attacht'd  to  lier,  wlio  liad 
nursed  and  tended  to  lier  wants  in  her  chihlliood, 
who  liad  watched  over  her  in  her  sickness,  whose  eves 
beamed  with  delight  as  they  saw  her  increasing  daily  in 
beauty  and  in  loveliness.  —  when  they  were  threatened 
to  be  foroeil  away  from  lu-r,  her  heart  told  her  that  she 
could  as  well  part  with  that  heart  itself  as  with  those 
wliom  it  held  so  dear.''  I'eel  could  not  be  moved  from 
th(^  position  he  had  taken,  and  did  not  become  Trinie 
Minister. 

In  1840  the  Queen  announced  her  approaching  mar- 
riage to  Prince  Albert.  The  ministers  proposed  to 
settle  upon  him  J£5(),0()0  a  year,  as  had  been  given  in 
other  case's.  It  was  a  time  of  great  commercial  depres- 
sion, and  Peel  seconded  a  motion  to  reduce  the  amount 
to  dSo(),00().  This  did  not  mar  the  good  feeling  between 
the  (Jueen  and  Sir  llobert,  for  three  years  later  she  and 
I'rii'ce  Albert  visited  Peel  at  Drayton  ^Fanor.  The 
Prince  and  Sir  Ilobert  became  close  friends,  because 
both  were  cultivated,  and  both  devoted  to  their  country. 

Peel  again  became  I'rime  ]\[inister  in  1841.  As  had 
been  ])reviously  arranged,  three  Whig  ladies,  the  Duch- 
ess of  Pedford,  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland,  and  Lady 
Normandy,  resigned.  Peel  had  many  important  mat- 
ters at  hand.  The  Irish  question  was  ever  at  the 
front.  Several  measures  in  aid  of  Ireland  were  passed 
by  the  Commons  and  defeated  by  the  Lords.  ]Mr.  Shaw 
Lefevre,  in  his  '•  Peel  and  O'Connell,"  says  :  '•  The  House 
of  Lords  has  been  leavened  and  prejudiced  on  Irish 
questions  by  a  number  of  peers  from  Ireland,  represent- 
ing only  one  and  tlu^  smallest  section  of  the  people;  and 
cnly  one  interest,  that  of  landlords,  —  a  body  withou' 


« 


48 


SIR   noli  Eli  T  PEEL. 


any  popular  sympatliios,  and  tho  dotcrniined  opponent 
of  every  measure  of  justic^e  to  tlieir  country." 

With  all  industries  crippled,  famine  swept  tho  coun- 
try again  and  again.  Titiies  had  long  been  a  subji  ct  of 
constant  dissension,  and,  indeed,  of  bloodslied.  i>oth 
Catholics  and  I'resbyterians  hated  tliem,  because  .  ol- 
lected  for  the  Establislied  Church;  the  tax  being  levied 
on  corn,  potatoes,  flax,  and  meadow. 

In  "Two  Centuries  of  Irish  History,"  Dr.  Sullivan 
says:  "When  the  tenant,  from  one  cause  or  another, 
was  unable  to  pay  the  titlie,  tlie  tithe-farmer  gave  him 
credit  often  at  high  interest,  and  if  he  failed  to  pay  the 
interest  it  was  added  to  the  principal;  and  ultimately 
his  goods  were  perhaps  distrained,  even  to  iiis  miserable 
furniture.  If  a  cottier  or  farmer,  or  his  half-naked 
wife  or  children,  should  inadvertently  dig  two  or  three 
beds  of  their  early  potatoes  without  leaving  the  tithe  or 
tenth  spade  undug,  tlie  tithe-farmers  immediately  threat- 
ened to  sue  him  for  subtraction  of  tithe,  to  avoid  which 
they  were  frequently  obliged  to  take  tlieir  tithes  at  his 
valuation." 

Finally  societies  were  formed  to  resist  the  payment 
of  tithes.  O'Connell  was  the  brilliant  leader,  liiots 
ensued;  men  were  arrested,  but  it  was  imjiossible  to 
convict.  Sydney  Smith  thought  about  one  million  lives 
had  been  sacriticed  in  Ireland  on  account  of  the  tithe 
system. 

In  1833  the  arrears  of  tithes  amounted  to  over  a  mil- 
lion pounds.  This  year  alone  it  cost  England  £'20,000 
to  collect  £12,000  worth  of  tithes.  In  1838  the  "Irish 
Tithes'  Commutation  Act"  was  passed,  and  a  land  tax 
substituted.  A  million  pounds  were  given  to  the  tithe- 
owners  for  arrears. 


sin    IIOIIKUT   I'KEL. 


49 


V 


O'Coiinell  had  been  workiiiL,'  for  years  in  Ireland  to 
briuLj  jiUout  a  repeal  of  the  union.  He  had  annuuneed 
that  184»j  should  be  known  henceforward  as  the  year  of 
Kepeal.  He  had  secured  seats  in  Parliament  for  his 
sons,  and  many  other  friends  pledged  to  repeal.  He 
held  immense  meetings  all  over  Ireland,  at  which  people 
gathered  to  listen  to  the  wor<ls  of  the  great  Liberator,  as 
he  was  called.  At  Tara.  when  over  a  (piarter  of  a  mil- 
lion peojjle  were  assi  nibled,  O'Connell  said  :  "  l>efore 
twelve  months  more,  the  Tarliament  will  be  in  College 
Green.  .  .  .  H",  at  the  present  moment,  the  Irish  Parlia- 
ment was  in  existence,  even  as  it  stood  in  1800,  is  there 
a  coward  amongst  you  —  is  there  a  wretch  amongst  you 
so  despicable,  that  he  would  not  die  rather  than  allow 
the  union  to  pass?  .  .  .  The  Irish  Parliament  will  then 
assemble,  and  I  defy  all  the  generals,  old  and  young,  and 
all  the  old  women  in  i)antaloons  —  nay,  I  defy  all  the 
chivalry  of  the  earth,  to  take  away  that  Parliament  from 
us  again.  Give  me  three  million  of  repealers,  and  I  will 
soon  have  them.  .  .  .  Kemember,  I  pronounce  the  union 
to  be  null,  to  be  obeyed  as  an  injustice  ;  must  be  obeyed 
where  it  is  supported  by  law,  until  we  have  the  royal 
authority  to  set  the  matter  right,  and  substitute  our  own 
l*arliament." 

A  mass  meeting  was  arranged  at  Clontarf,  near  Dublin. 
Sundav,  October  S.     On  the  verv   morning  of   that 


on 


v  J 


day,  government  issued  a  })roclamation,  forbidding  the 
people  to  assemble.  The  "•  Young  Ireland"  i)arty  hoped 
O'Connell  would  resort  to  arms.  Thousands  were  ready 
to  fight.  England  feared  that  O'Connell  meant  rebellion, 
but  he  had  hoped  to  gain  the  Pepeal  just  as  Catholic 
Emancii)ation  had  been  gained,  by  constitutional  methods 
only.     He  therefore  prevailed  upon   the   peo})le   not  to 


ii 


60 


SIR  ROBERT  PEEL. 


attend  the  meeting,  against  tlie  will  of  the  government ; 
and  showed  to  the  world  that  much  as  he  loved  Ireland, 
he  loved  peace  even  more.  O'Connell  was  arrested,  sen- 
tenced to  a  year's  imprisonment,  and  to  pay  two  thousand 
])()unds.  This  sentence  was  reversed  by  the  House  of 
Lords  on  a  technical  error. 

O'Connell  became  melancholy,  after  the  failure  of  his 
plans:  liis  dejection  increased,  it  is  said,  by  his  hopeless 
love  lor  a  young  girl  who  would  not  consent  to  become 
his  Avife.  He  desired  to  die  at  Kome,  and  hurried  to 
Italy.  His  strength  failed  when  he  reached  Genoa, 
where  he  died  ]\[ay  15,  1847. 

Peel  did  much  for  education.  The  annual  grant  for 
elementary  education  in  England  was  increased  from 
thirty  thousand  pounds  to  one  hundred  thousand  pounds 
annually.  He  raised  the  annual  grant  to  ]\Iaynooth 
College,  a  Koman  Catholic  institution  in  Ireland,  at 
which  most  of  the  priests  were  educated,  from  nine 
thousand  to  twent3'-six  thousand  pounds,  and  proposed 
to  give  thirty  thousand  pounds  for  the  erection  of  new 
buildings. 

This  gift  to  the  Romanists  raised  a  storm  in  Encrland. 
Great  meetings  were  held  in  opposition  ;  but  the  quiet 
yet  strong-willed  Peel  carried  out  the  measure  which  he 
considered  fair  and  just.  This  grant  was  repealed  when 
Gladstone's  government  disestablished  the  Irish  Church, 
and  liomanists  were  left  free  to  support  their  own  insti- 
tutions. 

Another  measure  of  Peel's  called  forth  great  censure. 
He  used  £100.000  to  aid  in  founding  undcMiominational 
colleges  in  Belfast,  Cork,  and  Gahvay,  affiliated  to  a 
new  university,  to  be  called  the  ''Queen's  University  in 
Ireland."     Here  instruction  was  given,  in  seculai  knowl- 


' 


SIR  llOBEltT  PEEL. 


51 


* 


edge.  The  Pope  and  the  Irish  bishops  condemned  the 
colleges  as  '^  godless." 

reel  passed  his  Bank  Charter  Act  in  1845,  a  measure 
devised  largely  by  Lord  Overstone.  "  The  amount  of 
security  upon  which  the  bank  may  issue  notes  is  to  be 
£14,000,000.  Above  that  sum  the  notes  must  correspond 
to  the  amount  of  bullion,  and  a  full  statement  of  the 
accounts  of  the  bank  is  to  be  given  week  by  week  to 
the  government  for  publication." 

Peel  and  Lord  Aberdeen,  his  Foreign  Secretary, 
settled  the  unfortunate  disputes  between  England  and 
the  United  States  over  boundary  lines.  Lord  Ashbur- 
ton,  formerly  INIr.  Baring,  who  had  married  an  American 
lady,  was  sent  to  Washington,  and  by  his  tact  and  intel- 
ligence helped  to  settle  the  disagre  .anent  between  Canada 
and  ]Maine  as  to  boundary. 

In  1846  the  Oregon  Treaty  settled  the  question  of  the 
ownership  of  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  River,  for  a 
time  at  least,  thus  happily  averUng  a  war  between  the 
two  nations.  The  question  was  decided  in  1871  by  the 
Emperor  of  Germany,  to  whom  it  was  referred  for 
arbitration. 

While  Peel  was  steering  the  ship  of  state  steadily  and 
successfully,  great  matters  were  coming  up  for  decision, 
as  nnist  always  be  the  case  aniong  a  thinking  people. 
Lord  Ashley,  afterwards  Shaftesbury,  was  pushing  ear- 
nestl\'  his  measures  for  the  f'nntQ^-y  opt^yntivps.  Peel  be- 
lieved that  a  limitation  of  the  day  to  ten  hours'  labor 
would  prevent  manufacturers  from  competing  with  those 
of  other  countries,  and  in  the  end  work  harm  to  the 
operatives  themselves  by  lowering  wages.  Lie  did  not 
live  to  see  how  labor  was  blessed  later  on  by  such 
decrease  of  toil;  he  perhaps  knew  less  about  the  lives 


I  I 


SIR  ROBERT  PEEL. 


of   workiiigmen  than  liis  fatlier,   who   had   earned   his 

iiiillioiis  foi'  him. 

John  Bright  and  Cohden  were  stirring  England  by 
tlu'ir  ek)(|uent  speeclies  on  Free  Trade.  Disraeli  was 
talking  Protoetion  with  all  his  satire  and  brilliancy. 
Former  prohibitions  of  corn  or  grain  had  caused  riots, 
and  burnings,  and  consequent  hangings.  The  Hon. 
Cl'arles  I'elham  Yillievs,  a  member  of  the  aristocracy,  a 
gifted  and  true  man,  had  moved  annually,  for  years,  the 
abolition  of  the  Corn  Laws. 

In  1842  Feed  had  carried  his  sliding-scale  with  a  duty 
of  twenty  shillings  when  the  price  of  corn  was  worth 
fifty-one  shillings,  decreasing  to  twelve  shillings  duty 
when  corn  or  wheat  was  worth  sixty  shillings,  and  one 
shilling  duty  when  grain  was  worth  seventy -three  shil- 
lings. The  tariff  battle  was  fought  for  years  ;  some  per- 
sons favoring  absolute  repeal,  some  a  fixed  duty,  and 
otluu'b  a  sliding-scale. 

'•  In  the  mean  time,"  says  Dr.  Taylor,  "the  increasing 
':''istress  and  discontent  of  the  agricultural  laborers,  for 
whose  benefit  the  Corn  Laws  were  said  to  have  been 
established,  practically  refuted  one  of  the  strongest  argu- 
ments on  which  the  l*rotectionists  relied.  At  a  nu^eting 
of  laborers,  this  favorite  excuse  for  the  nudntenance  of 
mono})oly  was  forever  overthrown  by  a  ])oor  })easant 
whose  jaded  form,  hollow  cheeks,  and  attenuated  limbs 
were  irrefutable  proofs  of  the  extremity  of  his  sufferings  : 
in  a  hollow,  piercing  voice  he  exclaimed,  ^  1  be  protected, 
(IIhI  J  he  sfiirriiKj  /  '  " 

i\[en  with  seven  and  eight  children  could  earn  at  farm 
labor  but  seven  shillings  per  week.  One  of  the  lal)orers 
said,  '"The  children  would  jump  across  the  house  if  they 
saw  a  couple  of  jjotatoes,  and  (juarrel  which  should  luive 


SIR  ROBERT  PEEL. 


53 


thciii.  .  .  .  When  lie  came  home  at  night,  and  found  tliem 
crying  for  food,  and  he  had  none  to  give  them,  it  almost 
drove  liim  mad." 

In  Ireland,  the  potato  rot,  from  tlie  wet  weather,  hod 
brought  on  a  famine.  Of  her  eight  million  po})ulation, 
about  one-half  depended  upon  the  potatoes  for  food.  ^''  In 
rhe  southern  and  western  provinces,"  says  McCarthy, 
••  a  large  proportion  of  the  peasantry  actually  lived  on 
the  potato,  and  the  potato  alone.  In  these  districts 
whole  generations  grew  up,  lived,  married,  and  passed 
away,  without  having  ever  tasted  flesh-meat." 

The  census  reports  for  1841  showed  that  in  the  rural 
districts  above  forty-three  per  cent,  and  in  the  urban  dis- 
tricts abov^e  thirty-six  per  cent,  of  the  families  lived  in 
mud  cabins  having  only  one  room. 

When  the  potatoes  were  destroyed,  famine  came  into 
these  hovels.  "The  people,"  says  i\Ir.  Stuart  Trench, 
in  his  "  Eealities  of  Irish  Life,"  "died  on  the  roads, 
and  they  died  on  the  fields  ;  they  died  on  the  mountains, 
and  they  died  in  the  glens  ;  they  died  at  the  relief 
works,  and  they  died  in  their  houses,  so  that  little  streets 
orviMages  were  left  almost  witliout  an  inhabitant;  and 
at  last  some  few,  desi)airing  of  help  in  the  country, 
crawled  into  the  town,  Jind  died  at  the  doors  of  residents 
and  outside  the  Union  walls.  Some  were  buried  umler- 
ground,  .ind  some  were  left  uid)uried  on  the  mountains 
where  they  died,  there  being  no  one  able  to  bury  them." 

In  a  few  years  the  population  of  Irehind  fell  froui 
eight  millions  to  fivo.  The  famine  and  its  consequent 
fevers  carried  off  a  million  and  a  half.  Food  was  too 
dear  for  the  poor,  and  a  (M'y  went  up  from  the  desolate 
homes  that  the  protective  duties  be  removed,  that  bread 
might  be  cheap. 


m 
n 


h 


M 


54 


sin   ROBERT  PEEL. 


Sir  Robert  liad  come  into  power  in  1841,  pledged  to 
protection,  but  lie  could  not  see  the  condition  of  affairs 
and  remain  unmoved.     John  Bright  was  saying  before 
lie  crowded  and  enthusiastic  audiences  that  gathered  all 
over  England :    "  Sir  Kobert   Peel  knows   well   enough 
what  is  wanted.  .  .  .  He  knows  our  principles,  and  what 
would  result  from  the  practice,  just  as  well  as  we  kn.ow. 
He  has  not  been  for  nearly  forty  years  in  public  life  — 
hearing  everything,  reading  everything,  and  seeing  al- 
most everything  —  without  having  come  to  a  conclusion, 
that  in  this  country  of  27,000,000  people,  and  with  an 
increase  of  1,500,000  since  he  came  into  power  in  1841, 
that  a  law  thai  shuts  out  the  sujiply  of  food  which  the 
world  would  give  to  this  population,  cannot  be   main- 
tained ;  and  that,  were  his  government  ten  times  as  strong 
as  it  is,  it  must  yield  before  the  imperious  and  irresistible 
necessity  which  is  every  day  gaining  upon  it.  .  .  .  His 
position   gives   enormous   power.     No   minister  in  this 
country  ever   had  a  greater  power  than    he    has  ;    and 
where  there  is  enormous  jiower,  there  must  always  be  a 
corresponding  responsibility." 

^Nlacaulay  spoke  eloquently  in  favor  of  the  repeal  of 
the  Corn  Laws.  Lord  John  Russell,  who  succeeded  l\'el 
as  prime  minisrer,  was  also  strongly  in  favor  of  repeal. 

Sir  Robert  had  the  farsightedness  and  judgment  to 
know  that  the  hour  had  come.  He  told  his  Cabinet  that 
tl;e  Corn  Laws  must  be  modified  or  suspended.  They 
could  not  agree  with  him  ;  and  Peel,  knowing  now  that 
for  the  ministry  to  oppose  repeal,  would  bring  strife  ami 
disorder  to  England,  tendered  his  resignation  to  the 
Queen. 

Lord  John  Russell  tried  to  form  aC;d)in(»t,  and  failed, 
and  the  Queen  sent  for  Peel  to  coinc   to  Windsor.     She 


SIR  ROBERT  PEEL. 


55 


said :  "  So  far  from  taking  leave  of  you,  Sir  Eobert,  I 
must  require  you  to  withdraw  your  resignation,  and  to 
remain  in  my  service." 

The  Queen  opened  the  new  session  of  Parliament  in 
person,  Jan.  22,  1846.  She  commended  the  ministry  for 
its  "  repeal  of  prohibitory  and  its  relaxation  of  protecting 
duties.  ...  I  recommend  you,"  she  said,  "  to  take  into 
early  consideration,  whether  the  principles  on  which  you 
have  acted  may  not  with  advantage  be  yet  more  exten- 
sively ap})lied,  and  whether  it  may  not  be  in  your  power, 
after  a  carefu'  review  of  the  existing  duties  upon  many 
articles,  the  produce  or  manufacture  of  other  countries, 
to  make  such  furtlier  reductions  and  remissions  as  nuiy 
tend  to  insure  the  continuance  of  the  great  benefits  to 
which  1  have  adverted,  and,  by  enlarging  our  commercial 
intercourse,  to  strengthen  the  bonds  of  amity  witli 
foreign  powers." 

Sir  Robert  then  stated,  in  an  able  speech,  his  plan  for 
the  gradual  repeal  of  the  Corn  LaAvs.  With  a  courage 
worthy  of  the  man,  he  said,  "  I  will  not  stand  at  the 
helm  during  such  tempestuous  riights  as  I  liavo  seen,  if 
this  vessel  be  not  allowed  to  pursue  fairly  the  course 
which  I  think  she  ought  to  take.  I  will  not,  sir,  under- 
take to  direct  the  course  of  tliis  vessel  by  the  observations 
which  have  been  taken  in  1842.  I  will  reserve  to  my- 
self the  marking  out  of  that  course  ;  and  I  must,  for  the 
public  interest,  claim  for  myself  the  unfettered  })ower  of 
judging  of  those  measures  which  I  conceive  will  be 
better  for  the  countr}^  to  ])ropose.  Sir,  1  do  not  wish 
to  be  the  minister  of  England  ;  but  while  I  have  the 
high  hoiu)r  of  holding  that  oihce,  I  am  determined  to 
hold  it  by  no  servile   tenure." 

The  Protectionists,  h'd  by  Disraeli,  were  angered  be- 


I 


56 


SIR  nOBERT  PEKL. 


yoiid  measure.  Disraeli  outdid  liiins(dF  in  sarcasm  and 
reprobation.  ''  Well,"  he  said,  "  do  we  remember  on  this 
side  of  tlie  House  —  perhap-J  not  without  a  blush  —  well 
do  we  remember  the  eiforts  which  we  made  to  raise  him 
to  the  bench  on  which  he  now  sits.  ^Vho  does  not  re- 
member the  'sacred  cause  of  protection'  —  the  cause 
for  which  sovereigns  were  thwarted,  parliaments  dis- 
solved, and  a  nation  taken  in  !  ...  I  care  not  what  may 
be  the  position  of  a  man  who  never  originates  an  idea, 
a  watcher  of  the  atmosphere,  a  nmn  who,  as  he  says,  takes 
his  observations,  and  when  he  finds  the  wind  in  a  cer- 
tain quarter,  trims  to  suit  it.  Such  a  i)erson  may  be  a 
powerful  minister,  but  he  is  no  more  a  gr':\at  statesman, 
than  the  man  who  gets  up  behind  a  carriage  is  a  great 
whip." 

The  fury  of  debate  and  invective  went  on  night  after 
night.  Finally,  ^lay  15,  the  bill  came  to  its  third  reading. 
"  The  beaten  side,"  says  ]\[r.  Montague^,  '■  gave  loose  to 
all  their  passion.  They  made  the  roof  ring  with  cheers 
when  Disraeli  remiiuled  the  House  how  the  right  honora- 
ble gentleman  had  ever  traded  on  the  ideas  of  others, 
described  him  as  a  burglar  of  others'  intellect,  and  termed 
his  life  one  great  appropriation  clause.  Wi  en  Peel  rose 
to  speak,  they  hooted  and  screamcul  with  fury.  WIkmi 
he  vindicated  himself,  and  spoke  of  honor  and  conscience, 
they  replied  with  shouts  of  derision,  and  gestures  of 
contempt.  For  a  minute  or  more  Feel  had  to  stop,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life  seemed  to  lose  his  self-])os- 
session.  It  seemed  as  though  he  were  about  to  burst 
into  tears ;  but  he  rallied  and  went  on.  Alas  for  the 
proud,  sensitive  man  !  " 

The  bill  passed  the  Hous(>  at  four  o'clock  on  the  morn- 
ing of  May  IG,  by  a  majority  of  ninety-eight,  and  went  up 


sin  liOnEliT  PEEL. 


57 


to  the  Lords,  where  Wellinj^ton  secured  its  passage. 
Tlie  old  liero  bhmtly  said,  '•  ]My  only  object  in  ]mblic 
life  i?=  to  snp))ort  Sir  liobert  Peel's  administration  of  t'le 
government  for  the  Queen.  A  good  government  for  tiie 
country  is  more  important  than  Corn  Laws  or  any  other 
consideration  ;  and  as  long  as  Sir  Kobert  Peel  possesses 
the  confidence  of  the  Queen,  and  of  the  public,  and  he 
has  the  strength  to  perform  his  duties,  his  administra- 
tion of  the  government  must  be  sup})orted." 

Sir  Robert  Peel's  government  fell  a  few  weeks  later, 
on  a  Coercion  P)ill  for  Ireland.  The  peasants  in  that 
country  seemed  to  have  become  desperate  tlirough  want 
and  disease,  and  saw  no  hope  for  the  future.  Crime  had 
so  increased,  that  a  Pill  for  the  Protection  of  Life  seemed 
a  necessity.  The  Protectionists  joined  witli  the  Whigs 
in  revenge;  on  Peel,  and  his  policy  was  defeated. 

On  Peel's  resignation,  June  29,  184G,  he  spoke  e)^ 
quently,  reviewing  his  ministerial  career.  Concerning 
the  repeal  of  the  Corn  Laws,  he  said :  ''  The  name  which 
ought  to  be,  and  will  be,  associated  with  the  success  of 
those  measures,  is  the  nai.ue  of  one,  who,  acting,  I  be- 
lieve, from  pure  and  disinterested  motives,  has,  with 
untiring  energy,  made  appeals  to  our  reason,  and  has 
enforced  those  api)eals  with  an  eloquence  the  more  to 
be  jidmired  because  it  was  unaffected  and  unadorned. 
The  name  which  ought  to  be  chiefly  associated  with  the 
success  of  these  measures  is  the  name  of  llichard 
Cobden." 

Peel  closed  with  these  manly  yet  pathetic  words:  '*In 
relinquisliing  i)0wer,  L  sliall  leave  a  name  severely  cen- 
sured, I  fear,  by  many  wlio,  on  public  grounds,  deeply 
regret  the  severance  of  pai'ty  ties, — deeply  regret  that 
severance,  not  from  interested  or  personal  motives,  but 


58 


SIR   liOnEUT  PEEL. 


"^ 


t ;" 


from  the  firm  conviction  that  fidelity  to  party  engage- 
ments —  the  existence  and  maintenance  of  a  great  party 
—  conKtitutes  a  powerf  il  instrument  of  government. 

•'  I  shall  surrender  jiower,  severely  censured,  also,  by 
others  v/lio,  from  no  interested  motives,  adhere  to  the 
principle  of  protection,  considering  the  maintenance  of 
it  to  be  essei«tial  to  the  welfare  and  interests  of  the 
country.  I  shall  leave  a  nnmc  execrated  by  every 
monopolist,  who,  from  lens  honorable  motives,  clamors 
for  protection  because  it  conduces  to  his  own  individual 
benefit ;  but  it  may  be  that  I  shall  leave  a  name,  some- 
times remembered  with  expressions  of  good-will,  in  the 
abodes  of  those  whose  lot  it  is  to  labor,  and  to  earn  their 
daily  bread  by  the  sweat  of  their  brow,  when  they  shall 
recruit  their  exhausted  strength  with  abundant  and  un- 
taxed food,  —  the  sweeter,  because  it  is  no  longer  leav- 
ened by  a  sense  of  injustice." 

In  the  bitterest  party  strife.  Peel  had  the  approval 
of  his  conscience,  and  was  therefore  not  disquieted. 
Wlien  blamed  because,  with  his  great  power,  he  had 
not  "educated  his  party"  up  to  the  great  priiiciples  (;f 
Free  Trade,  as  Disraeli  snid,  years  later ,  that  iie  had 
done  on  Reform,  reel  replied  that  he  had  not  wished  to 
broach  the  subject  to  the  House  of  Cowimons,  because 
some  would  have  })rotested,  and  some  would  have  organ- 
ized opposition.  "  I  '-Jiould  have  appeared  to  be  flying 
in  the  fai'.e  of  a  whole  party,  and  co*ituma('iously  disre- 
garding their  opinion  and  advice,  after  I  had  professed 
to  consult  them  ;  but  (what  is  of  infinitely  more  im- 
portance) I  should  have  failed  in  varryiufj  the  repeal  of 
the  Corn  Laws.  Now,  I  was  resolved  not  to  fail.  I. 
(lid  not  fail;  and  if  I  had  to  fight  the  battle  over  again, 
I  would  fight  it  in  the  same  way." 


SIR   no n FAIT  FEEL. 


m 


Peel  knew,  and  was  teaching  a  broader  constituency 
than  that  in  England  merely,  a  lesson  that  the  New 
World  is  learning,  that  there  is  something  above  party : 
principle,  and  the  permanent  good  of  one's  country. 

For  the  next  four  years,  Peel  enjoyed  some  measure 
of  rest  and  repose.  He  wrote  to  a  friend  that  he  and 
Lady  Peel,  "in  the  loveliest  weather,  were  feasting  on 
solitude  and  repose,  pud  I  have  every  disposition  to  for- 
give my  enemies  ior  having  conferred  upon  me  the 
bl'issing  of  the  loss  of  power." 

He  visited  Scotland,  and  received  the  freedom  of  the 
city  of  Aberdeen.  He  had  been  chosen  Lord  Rector 
of  Glasgow  University  some  years  before  this.  When 
Guizot  took  refuge  in  England  after  the  revolution  of 
1848,  Peel  entertained  him  at  Drayton  Manor,  as  he  did 
also  Louis  Philippe.  Peel  still  took  the  deepest  interest 
in  affairs  of  state.  June  29,  1850,  he  made  his  last 
speech  in  the  House  of  Commons,  on  the  Don  Pacitico 
matter,  which  gave  Palmerston  his  first  prominence. 
The  next  day  he  attended  a  meeting  of  the  Commis- 
sioners, who  were  arranging  for  the  great  Industrial 
Exhibition  of  1851. 

A  little  before  live  o'clock  he  went  for  a  ride  on 
horseback,  and  going  up  Constitution  Hill,  stopped  for  a 
moment  to  3pcak  with  JNIiss  Ellis,  daughter  of  Lady 
Dover,  also  on  horseback.  Peel's  horse  suddenly  shied, 
tlirew  off  his  rider,  and  fell  upon  him,  his  knees  on 
Peel's  shoulders.  Two  men  saw  the  accident,  and  rushed 
to  his  aid.  Peel,  when  asked  if  he  was  hurt,  replied, 
"  Very  much,"  and  became  unconscious.  He  was  taken 
liome,  and  laid  on  a  sofa  in  his  dining-room,  from  which 
it  was  found  impossibh  to  remove  him. 

For  three  days  he  lingered  in  dreadful  pain..     Great 


i'l 


60 


sill   ROBERT  PEEL. 


crowds  were  constantly  iibout  the  liouse,  tlie  poor  and 
tlie  rich,  all  anxious  to  learn  the  probable  results.  On 
Tuesday  afternoon,  the  third  day,  when  the  wife  and 
children  eame  in,  Peel  recognized  them,  and,  holding  out 
his  hand,  niurnuired,  "God  bless  you."  llis  wife  broke 
down,  and  had  to  be  carried  out.  At  eleven  o'clock 
death  came. 

It  was  desired  to  bury  the  great  statesman  with  pub- 
lie  honors  in  Westminster  Abbey,  but  he  had  directed  in 
llis  will  that  he  should  be  buried  without  ostentation,  in 
Drayton  Church,  beside  his  })arents. 

The  Queen  desired  to  bestow  upon  Lady  Peel  the 
rank  of  viscountess,  but  she  was  unwilling  to  accept  the 
honor.  Peel  had  exi)ressed  in  his  will  the  hope  that  no 
one  of  his  family  would  accept  any  title  or  reward  for 
services  which  he  might  have  rendered  to  his  country. 

A  monument  was  erected  to  Peel  in  Westminster 
Abbey,  and  others  in  various  cities  all  over  the  kingdom, 
given  by  tlie  rich,  and  by  the  penny  subscriptions  of 
working-men. 

Of  Peel's  seven  children,  five  sons  and  two  daughters, 
Robert,  the  eldest,  succeeded  to  the  baronetcy,  and  the 
representation  of  the  borough  of  Tam worth,  held  by  his 
father.  Frederick  was  member  for  Leominster;  Wil- 
liam entered  the  navy  ;  John  Floyd,  the  army  ;  Arthur 
Wellesley  was  elected  to  the  speakership  of  the  House 
of  Commons  in  1884;  Julia  married  Lord  Villiers;  Eliza, 
the  Hon.  Francis  Stonor.  Lady  l*eel  survived  her 
liusband  nine  years,  and  was  buried  beside  him.  Of 
Peel's  home  life,  Sir  Lawrence  IVel  says,  "English 
domestic  life  never  showed  itself  elsewhere  in  a  calmer 
or  a  purer  form." 

Of   his  public  life,  the  I)uk'3  of  Wellington  said  in 


sin    noilERT   PKEL. 


61 


the  House  of  Lords,  "  I  never  knew  a  man  in  whose 
trutli  and  justice  1  had  a  more  lively  contidence,  or  in 
whom  I  saw  a  more  invariable  dt'sire  to  ])romote  the 
public  service.  In  the  whole  course  of  my  communica- 
tion with  him,  I  never  knew  an  instance  in  wliich  he  did 
not  show  the  strongest  attachment  to  truth;  and  T  never 
saw,  in  the  whole  course  of  my  life,  the  smallest  reason 
for  suspecting  that  he  stated  anything  which  he  did  not 
iirmly  believe  to  be  the  fact." 

Peel  was  by  nature  a  conservative,  but  he  was  brave 
enough  and  broad-minded  enough  to  change  his  o})inioi's 
and  methods  when  reason  convinced,  or  justice  demanded 
it.  He  gave  Catholic  Emancipation  ;  he  accepted  Par- 
liamentary lleform  ;  he  i)roposed  the  Kepeal  of  the  Corn 
Ljiws.  Country  was  to  him  above  any  man  or  any  party. 
He  was  calm,  fair,  earnest,  honest,  and  sell-governed. 


M 


, 


LORD   PALxMERSTON. 


"  TTlJ^  society  was  infinitely  agreeable  to  me,"  wrote 
XJ-  Lord  Shaftesbury  after  his  father-in-law,  Lord 
Palnierston,  died;  '''and  I  admired  every  day  more  his 
patriotism,  his  simplicity  of  purpose,  his  indefatigable 
s})irit  of  labor,  his  unfailing  good  humor,  his  kindness 
of  heart,  and  his  prompt,  tender,  and  active  considera- 
tion for  others  in  the  midst  of  his  heaviest  toils  and 
anxieties." 

There  was  a  great  contrast  between  the  two  great 
men,  Shaftesbury  and  ralmerston.  One  lived  to  serve 
humanity  ;  the  other  lived  to  serve  England.  One  lived 
to  make  the  world  more  humane,  more  tender,  more 
Christian ;  the  other  lived  to  make  England  the  leader 
in  commerce  and  in  constitutional  government,  power- 
ful in  peace  and  unconquerable  in  war.  Palnierston  did 
not  live  for  himself  ;  he  lived  for  his  country.  And  this 
cainiot  be  said  of  all  statesmen. 

Henry  John  Temple,  Viscount  Palmerston,  was  born 
October  20,  1784,  at  Broadlands,  Hants,  his  father's 
English  seat.  An  ancestor.  Sir  AVilliam  Temple,  had 
settled  in  Ireland  in  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  His 
son,  John  Temple,  was  ^faster  of  the  Eolls  in  Ireland, 
and  an   author.      Of   his   cliildren,    William   became   a 

statesman  and  man  of  letters,  and  John,  the  great-great- 

02 


i; 


i 


1 

,'-.■' 

.   :^wi;  **.'ji,,,.^^„_^,^^^ 

1 

1 

)tel'iri.^tidS^I^^^^^BI^^^^^^^H^' 

' 

1 

^  ii^' 

• 

'^^  ^'^^M 

j^yji^ 

^^ 

1 

1 

■ '^i^Bmp^^^' 

« 

LORD  PALMERSTON. 


m 


Hi 


u.y 


^il.  ■! 


1 


J 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


63 


grandfatlior  of  Lord  Palmerston,  became  attorney-gen- 
eral and  speaker  of  the  Irish  House  of  Commons. 

Lord  Palmerston's  father,  the  second  viscount,  sat  for 
several  years  in  tlie  English  Parliament.  His  first  wife 
had  no  children.  Hip  second  wife,  IMury  ]\[ee,  was  the 
mother  of  four,  two  sons  and  two  daughters  ;  Henry 
John,  Lord  Palme rston,  being  the  eldest. 

The  father  was  a  man  of  literary  and  artistic  tastes, 
and  very  fond  of  society  ;  the  mother,  an  unselfish,  even- 
tem})ered  woman,  with  strong  common-sonse.  The  boy 
seems  to  have  inherited  his  father's  buoyant  nature  and 
passion  for  social  life,  with  his  mother's  sterling  sense 
and  strengtli  of  character. 

The  family  made  several  visits  to  Italy,  taking  Henry 
John,  or  Harry  as  he  was  'called,  with  them.  Here  he 
learned  the  Italian  language,  which  became  most  useful 
to  him  in  after  life.  When  Harry  Temple  was  an  old 
man  and  had  become  the  renowned  Lord  Palmerston, 
Victor  Emmanuel  II.  was  made  a  Knight  of  the  Garter 
at  Windsor  Castle  by  the  Queen.  She  wished  to  have 
the  King  of  Italy  understand  the  oath  he  was  about  to 
take,  so  Palmerston  made  a  translation  into  Italian  and 
lianded  it  to  the  Iving.  The  great  Italian  statesman, 
Cavour,  was  so  interested  in  the  incident  that  he  asked 
for  the  ])a})er  written  by  Palmerston,  and  always  pre- 
served it  as  an  liistorical  relic.  In  I  )ologna,  Harry  became 
the  friend  of  Francis  George  Hare,  called  later,  from  his 
great  knowledge,  "a  monster  of  learning."  He  wrote 
to  Harry  when  the  latter  was  at  Harrow  at  school:  "I 
hope  you.  take  no  part  in  those  vices  which  are  common 
to  a  public  school,  such  as  I  suppose  Harrow,  as  swearing 
and  getting  drunk ;  ])ut  I  inuigine  the  sou  of  a  gentle- 
man so  well  taught  cannot  partake  in  things  like  these. 


I) 


64 


LORD  PALMEBSTOX. 


...  I  still  persist  in  1113'  opinion  of  never  marrying,  and 
I  suppose  you  tliiiik  tlio  siinie,  as  you  must  have  read  as 
well  as  myself  of  the  many  faults  and  vices  of  women." 

The  lad  of  fourteen,  Harry  Temple,  wrote  baek  that  he 
was  just  recovering  from  the  measles  ;  that  lie  had  begun 
to  read  Homer's  Iliad;  that  he  was  "doing  C;esar, 
Terence,  Ovid,  Greek  Testament,  and  a  collection  of 
Greek  epigrams  ;  "  tliat  "  I  am  perfectly  of  i/oi(y  opinion 
concerning  drinking  and  swearing,  which,  tliough  fashion- 
able at  })resent,  I  tliink  extremely  ungentlenmnlike.  I 
have  begun  to  learn  Spanish,  and  have  also  begun  to 
read  'Don  Quixote'  in  the  original,  wliich  I  can  assure 
you  gave  me  no  small  ideasure.  ...  I  caniuit  agree  witl*. 
you  about  marriage,  though  I  should  be  hy  no  means  2n'e- 
cipitate  (ihout  mij  cholv.eP 

As  Lord  Palmerston  did  not  nmrry  until  he  was  fifty- 
five,  he  was  ''by  no  means  precipitate  about  liis  choice." 

Young  Hare  waited  till  lie  was  past  forty,  and  married 
"  Anne,  eldest  daughter  of  Sir  John  Dean  Paul,  and  had 
with  her  twenty  thousand  pounds."  He  died  in  Sicily, 
twelve  years  later.  Walter  Savage  Landor  speaks  of 
him  as  one 

"Who  held  mute  the  joyous  and  the  wise 
With  wit  and  eloqucncv:  whose  toinh,  afar 
Fi'om  all  liis  fiieiids  and  all  his  eountryuien, 
Saddens  tlie  light  Palermo." 

When  Harry  was  sixteen  he  left  Harrow,  and  went  to 
Edinburgh  University,  where  for  three  years  he  boarded 
with  the  famous  Dugald  Stewart,  and  attended  his 
lectures  on  i)olitical  economy  and  moral  philosophy, 
his  parents  paying  four  hundred  pounds  a  year  for  these 
privileges. 

''  In  these  three  years,"  said  Lord  ralmerston  in  later 


s 


LOBB  PALMEIiSTON. 


65 


life,  "  I  laid  the  foundation  for  whatever  useful  knowl- 
edge and  habits  of  mind  I  possess." 

Professor  Dugald  Stewart  was  evidently  fond  of  his 
pupil,  for  he  wrote  to  a  friend :  "  In  point  of  temper  and 
conduct  he  is  everything  his  friends  could  wish.  Indeed, 
I  cannot  say  that  I  have  ever  seen  a  more  faultless  char- 
acter at  his  time  of  life,  or  one  possessed  of  more  amia- 
ble dispositions.  His  talents  are  uncommonly  good,  and 
he  does  them  all  possible  justice  by  assiduous  appli- 
cation." 

Lord  Minto  wrote  to  Harry's  mother :  "  Harry  is  as 
charming  and  perfect  as  he  ought  to  be ;  I  do  declare  I 
never  sn  »v  anything  more  delightful.  On  this  subject  I 
do  not  speak  on  my  own  judgment  alone.  I  have  sought 
opportunities  of  conversing  with  ]Mr.  and  also  with  Mrs. 
Stewart  on  ^lie  subject,  and  they  have  made  to  me  the 
report  which  you  have  already  heard  from  others,  that 
he  is  the  only  young  man  they  ever  knew  in  whom  it  is 
impossible  to  find  any  fault.  Diligence,  capacity,  total 
freedom  from  vice  of  every  sort,  gentle  and  kind  dispo- 
sition, cheerfulness,  pleasantness,  and  perfect  sweetness, 
are  in  tlie  catalogue  of  properties  by  which  we  may 
advertise  him  if  he  should  be  lost." 

Evidently  riches,  and  the  fact  that  he  was  a  lord,  had 
not  spoiled  young  Harry  Temple.  His  good  sense  kept 
him  from  feeling  above  others,  and  his  true  manhood 
kept  him  from  extravagance  and  bad  companions. 

When  Harry  was  nineteen  he  entered  St.  John's 
College,  Cambridge.  Here  his  scholarship  was  so  excel- 
lent and  his  conduct  so  exemplary  that  his  private  tutor, 
Dr.  Outrum,  advised  him  to  attempt  to  enter  Parliament 
for  Cambridge  whenever  there  was  a  vacancy. 

Before  leaving  ]']dinburgli,  in  1802,  Viscount  Palmer- 


m 


M 
I'll 


i 


GQ 


LOUD  PALMERl^TON. 


ston  had  died,  leaving  his  eldest  son,  Harry,  the  titles  and 
estates  Tliis  deatli  was  a  severe  blow  to  Harry,  and 
Lord  jMinto  wrote  his  wife  that  young  Temple  ha(.  ..o- 
come  -'entirely  silent."  Three  years  later,  in  1805,  a 
still  heavier  sorrow  came,  in  the  death  of  his  mother. 

Ilarrv,  now  Lord  Palmerston,  wrote  to  his  friend,  the 
Right  lion.  Lawrence  Sullivan,  who  afterwards  married 
his  second  sister,  Elizabeth  :  "  Consolation  is  impossible  ; 
there  are  losses  which  nothing  can  repair;  and  griefs 
which  time  may  fix  and  mellow,  but  never  can  obliterate. 
A^tov  the  example,  however,  of  fortitude  and  resignation 
set  us  by  a  being  who  was  the  model  of  every  human 
excellence,  it  would  be  criminal  in  us  not  to  imitate 
the  resignation  as  well  as  every  other  perfection  of  her 
character. 

"  She  was  conscious,  it  is  true,  that  she  was  but  pass- 
ing to  that  happiness  which  her  virtues  had  secured  her; 
and  beheld  with  calmness  and  composure  an  event  which, 
to  the  generality  of  mankind,  comes  clad  with  all  the 
terrors  of  doubt." 

A  noble  tribute  to  a  mother  from  a  noble  son ! 

The  following  year,  in  January,  1806,  Lord  Palmer- 
ston, just  twenty-one,  and  not  yet  a  graduate,  stood 
for  Cambridge  University,  the  death  of  the  younger  Pitt 
having  made  a  vacancy.  He  was  defeated,  though 
he  said,  truly,  "  It  was  an  honor,  however,  to  have  been 
su^iported  at  all,  and  I  was  well  satisfied  with  my  fight." 

The  same  year  he  and  Lord  Fitz  Harris  were  elected  for 
Horsham,  but  were  unseated  on  petition,  and  thought 
themselves  lucliy,  he  says  in  his  brief  autobiography, 
"as  in  a  short  time  came  the  change  of  government,  and 
the  dissolution  in  ^lay,  1807;  and  we  rejoiced  in  our 
good  fortune  at  not  having  paid  live  thousand  pounds 


i 


LORD  PALMETISTON, 


67 


(which  would  have  been  its  price)  for  a  three-months 
seat." 

He  stood  again  for  Cambridge,  and  failed,  but  later 
entered  the  House  of  Commons  from  Newport,  in  the 
Isle  of  Wight.  For  sixty  yea'vj,  till  his  death,  he 
remained  a  member  of  Parliament. 

He  had  just  before  this  been  nominated  a  Lord  of  the 
Admiralty,  through  the  influence  of  his  guardian,  Lord 
Malmesbury,  who  was  an  intimate  friend  of  tlie  Duke  of 
l*ortland,  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury.  Lord  Palmerston 
did  not  make  a  speech  for  some  months  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  then  it  was  upon  the  taking  of  Copenhagen 
by  the  English,  to  prevent  its  union  with  the  French 
under  Napoleon  Bonaparte.  He  spoke  for  a  half-hour, 
following  a  brilliant  speech  of  Canning's,  three  hours 
long.  The  speech  was  composed  with  care,  aivd  portions 
of  it  committed  to  memory.  It  was  evident  that  young 
Palmerston  was  considered  a  rising  man  on  the  Tory 
side. 

He  was  surprised,  however,  when  in  October  of  the 
following  year,  i809,  ]\Ir.  Perceval,  the  Prime  INIinister, 
offered  him  successively  the  Chancellorship  of  the  Ex- 
chequer, a  Lordship  of  the  Treasury,  and  the  Secretary- 
ship at  War.  He  chose  the  latter,  because  he  thought 
the  other  positions  too  hazardous  for  "so  young  and 
inexperienced  a  man,"  as  he  said  of  himself. 

He  wrote  to  Lord  Malmesbury  :  "  Of  course  one's  vanity 
and  ambition  would  lead  one  to  accept  the  brilliant  offer 
first  proposed ;  but  it  is  throwing  for  a  great  'dake,  and 
where  much  is  to  be  gained,  very  much  also  may  be  lost. 
I  have  always  thought- it  unfortunate  for  any  on^^,  and 
particularly  a  young  man,  to  be  put  above  his  proper 
le'    ■,  as  he  only  rises   to   fall  the  lower."     His  good 


Ui 


m 
m 

m 

m 


\i 


] 


III    I 


fiS 


LOBD  PALMERSTON, 


I  f 


seu-e  had  triiimplied,  as  it  did  again  and  again  through 

his  long  life. 

He  remained  Secretary  at  War,  dealing  with  the 
accounts  of  the  War  Department  (not  Secretary  for  War, 
who  was,  properly  speaking,  the  War  Minister),  for 
nearly  twenty  years.  People  began  to  wonder  why  he 
was  not  taking  a  more  prominent  part  in  affairs,  as  his 
youtli  gave  promise.  His  intimate  friends  knew  that  he 
had  ability,  but  the  world  thought  of  him  usually  as  a 
polished  man  of  society,  rich  and  cultivated.  "  Cupid  "  he 
was  called,  from  his  dainty  dress,  and  agreeable  manners. 

"He  passed,"  says  Lord  Shaftesbury,  "so  far  as  I 
could  then  judge,  for  a  handy,  clever  man,  who  moved 
liis  estimates  very  well,  appeared  to  care  but  little  about 
public  affairs  in  general,  went  a  good  deal  into  society, 
and  never  attracted  any  otiier  remark  than  one  of  won- 
der, which  I  often  heard,  that  he  had  been  so  long  in 
the  same  office. 

"  I  doubt  whether,  at  that  time,  he  had  much  personal 
ambition.  .  .  .  His  light  and  jaunty  manner  did  him 
great  disservice  in  his  earlier  years ;  and  I  recollect 
perfectly  well  that,  on  our  first  acquaintance,  I  could  see 
nothing  in  him  of  the  statesman,  but  a  good  deal  of  the 
dandy. 

"  This  manner  attended  him  throughout  life  in  all  the 
intercourse  of  society,  even  when  engaged,  heart  and 
soul,  in  the  most  arduous  and  important  matters.  It  was 
not  assiimed ;  it  was  perfectly  natural  and  easy  -,  for, 
whether  at  home  or  abroad,  he  seemed  to  be  always 
disposed  to  take  a  light-humored  view  of  all  and  every- 
thing that  came  under  his  notice. 

"But  this  was  simply  the  efflorescence  of  certain 
great  principles  fermenting  within.     I  do  not  hesitate  to 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


G9 


say  that  the  two  great  objects  of  his  heart  —  one,  the  insti- 
tution of  a  true  and  vigorous  foreign  policy,  suited  to  the 
honor  and  position  of  the  kingdom  of  England;  the  ot.ier, 
the  extinction  of  the  slave-trade  —  were  founded,  not  only 
on  his  personal  love  of  freedom  (which  was  intense),  but 
on  his  deep  and  unalterable  conviction  that  civil  liberty 
uU  over  the  world  would  be  good  for  the  hu^^au  race,  and 
s])ecially  so  for  the  British  people." 

Lord  Palmerston  had  been  offered  the  secretaryship 
for  Ireland  in  1812,  but  he  declined  it.  When  Lord 
Liverpool  was  Prime  Minister,  he  offered  Palmerston 
the  governor-generalship  of  India,  or  the  post-office,  with 
a  seat  in  the  House  of  Lords  ;  but  both  positions  were 
also  declined.  Canning  made  him  the  offer  of  India,  but 
Palmerston  told  him  that  he  "  happened  not  to  have  a 
family  for  whom  he  should  be  desirous  of  i)roviding,  and 
his  health  would  not  stand  the  climate  of  India."  He 
also  refused  Canning's  offer  that  he  should  be  governor 
of  Jamaica. 

Although  Lord  Brougham  said,  "Palmerston  seldom 
troubles  the  House  with  his  observations,"  yet  he  spoke 
well  on  some  matters  which  deeply  interested  him. 
When  jVIr.  Grattan,  in  1813,  brought  forward  the  ques- 
tion of  Catholic  emancipation,  Palmerston  spoke  elo- 
quently upon  it.  The  bill,  however,  by  which  "  lloman 
Catholics  are  ,:dmitted  by  a  new  oath  to  Parliament,  and 
almost  all  civil  and  political  offices  except  those  of 
llegent,  Lord  Chancellor,  and  Lord  J  ^eutenant  of  Ireland 
are  opened  to  them,"  vas  not  passed  till  1829,  sixteen 
years  later. 

Palmerston  said  in  his  speech  before  the  House  of 
Commons,  "If  it  ho,d  unfortunately  happened  that  by 
the  circumstances  of  birth  and  education,  a  Nelson,  a 


70 


LOUD  PALIJERSTON. 


I 


Wellington,  a  hmko.  u  r'  'v,  or  a  Pitt  had  belonged  to 
this  class  of  the  ,oii  iviuhily^  of  what  honors  and  what 
glory  might  not  the  page  of  1  -itish  history  have  been 
de])rived  ?  To  what  perils  and  calamities  might  not 
this  country  have  been  exposed  ';'  The  question  is  not 
whether  we  would  have  so  large  a  part  of  the  population 
Catliolic  or  not.  There  they  are,  and  we  must  deal 
with  them  as  we  can. 

"It  is  in  vain  to  think  that  by  any  human  pressure 
we  can  stojo  the  spring  which  gushes  from  the  earth. 
But  it  is  for  us  to  consider  whether  we  will  force  it  to 
spend  its  strength  in  secret  and  hidden  courses,  under- 
mining our  fences  and  corrupting  our  soil,  or  whether 
we  shall  at  once  turn  the  current  into  the  open  and 
s])acious  channel  of  honorable  and  constitutional  ambi- 
tion, converting  it  into  the  means  of  national  prosperity 
and  public  wealth." 

He  wrote  to  his  brother,  Hon.  William  Temple,  of  the 
British  Legation  at  Berlin  :  '•  It  is  strange  that  in  this 
enlightened  age  and  enlightened  country,  people  should 
be  still  debating  whether  it  is  wise  to  convert  four  or 
five  millions  of  men  from  enemies  to  friends,  and 
whether  it  is  safe  to  give  peace  to  Ireland." 

As  a  rule,  Talmerston  did  not  make  long  speeches, 
"unless  when  he  purposely  chose  to  be  vague  or  unin- 
telligible," says  one  of  the  English  journals  ;  "  he  always 
went  straight  to  the  nuirk,  and  talked  in  homely,  vigor- 
ous, Saxon  English.  ...  He  lever,  by  any  chance, 
wearied  his  audience.  ...  He  brought  to  bear  upon 
every  debate  an  unsurpassed  tact,  and  a  memory  hardly 
rivalled.  He  could  reply  with  telling  effect,  and  point 
by  point,  to  a  lengthened  attack  from  an  enemy,  without 
the  use  of  a  note  or  memorandum  of  any  kind.     When 


LORD  PAL'STETiSTOy. 


71 


)/.} 


argument   failed,   he   employed   broad,   rough,  English 
satire.     He  was  never  dull,  he  was  never  ineffective." 

In  1818,  on  April  8,  Lord  Palmerston,  as  he  was  going 
up  the  stairs  to  the  War  Office,  was  shot  at  and  s^'^htly 
wounded  by  an  insane  lieutenant.  On  the  tri,  I  e 
assailant  was  defended  at  Lord  ralnicrston's  <pf^  .  ■', 
and  sent  to  an  asylum.  Jan.  1,  1820,  Palmer  ..-.i  nade 
an  eloquent  speech  on  the  independence  of  Cret  o  and 
the  usurpations  of  Doni  ^liguul  in  l^ortugal.  '  -er^e  had 
long  been  under  the  hated  rule  of  ^the  TurKS,  but  in 
1821  the  war  for  independence  broke  out. 

IVIavrocordatos  was  appointed  president.  The  aspi- 
rants for  honors  were  numberless,  and  a  civil  war  ensued 
in  1823  and  1824.  ]\Ieantime  the  Greek  fleet  did  great 
damage  to  the  Turks.  The  Sultan  sought  the  aid  of 
]\[ehemet  Ali,  Pasha  of  Egypt,  and  his  stepson  Ibrahim 
landed  on  the  Peloponnesus  with  a  band  of  Arabs  in  1824. 
Ibrahim  conquered  all  before  him,  even  Missolonghi, 
after  a  year's  siege. 

Th^  Greeks  fought  heroically,  and  their  bravery  tilled 
Europe  with  praise.  Lord  Byron  gave  his  life  to  their 
cause.  The  monarchs  of  Europe  feared  that  the  demo- 
cratic spirit  of  the  French  Revolution  was  spreading, 
and  that  crowns  would  give  place  to  republics.  The 
people,  however,  rejoiced  in  the  desire  of  the  Greeks  to 
be  self-governing. 

The  ravages  of  the  Turks  had  been  so  great  on  the 
islands,  as  well  as  the  mainland,  that  the  three  powers, 
England,  France,  and  Ilussia,  were  compelled  to  send 
shi[)S  to  cruise  along  the  coasts  of  the  I  cloponnesus.  As 
winter  came  on,  the  admirals  of  the  fleets  decided  to 
anchor  in  the  Bay  of  Kavarino.  Tliis  excited  the  hos- 
tility of  the  Turks,  who  iired  upon  them.     A  general 


k 


72 


LORD  PALMEUSTON. 


Il  I 


engagement  resulted,  and  the  Turkish  fleet  was  annihi- 
lated October  20,  1827. 

The  Duke  of  Wellington,  "always  a  hard  man,"  as  his 
friend  Lord  Shaftesbury  said,  desired  to  leave  the  Greeks 
to  themselves,  but  Talmerston  urged  that  England  might 
have  saved  much  of  bloodshed  by  taking  a  decided 
stand  with  Turkey  and  Egypt. 

The  following  year,  1828,  Greece  practically  became 
indej)endent  under  Capodistrias,  but  he  was  unpopular, 
and  was  "psassinated  in  1831.  Tlie  next  year  Otho  of 
Bavaria  was  mada  king,  and  the  present  limits  of  the 
kingdom  were  definitely  settled  by  the  protecting  powers. 
Otho,  unpopular,  was  obliged  finally  to  leave  his  throne, 
and  George,  brother  of  the  Princess  of  Wales,  was  made 
king. 

Portugal,  also,  was  passing  through  stormy  times.  In 
1826  John  VI.  of  Portugal  had  died,  leaving  by  his  will, 
his  daughter,  the  Infanta  Isabel  Maria,  as  regent,  to  the 
great  disappointment  of  his  son  Doni  JMiguel,  who  had 
hoped  for  tliat  honor.  The  brother  of  ])om  j\[iguel, 
Dom  Pedro,  Emperor  of  lU-azil,  had  abdicated  all  rights 
to  the  throne  of  Portugal  in  favor  of  his  little  daughter. 
Donna  jVIaria  da  Gloria,  only  seven  years  old,  on  condi- 
tion that  she  should  marry  her  ambitious  uncle,  Dom 
Miguel,  who  had  promised  to  accept  a  moderate  parlia- 
mentary government. 

Dom  Pedro,  with  too  much  faith  in  human  nature, 
appointed  Dom  Miguel  regent,  who  quickly  declared 
himself  king.  His  reign  soon  became  a  terror  to  all  lib- 
eralists.  The  girl  queen  fled  to  England,  where  public 
opinion  was  in  her  favor,  though  Wellington  and  his 
Tory  ministry  seemed  to  approve  of  Dom  Miguel. 


LOUD  PALMERSTON. 


73 


\'j 


Palmerston,  in  his  speech  before  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, spoke  earnestly  of  England's  professed  non-inter- 
ference in  the  civil  war  of  Portugal,  while  in  reality  she 
had  favored  the  absolutism  of  Doni  Miguel.  The  latter 
had  sworn,  in  the  presence  of  the  British  ambassador  at 
Vienna,  to  maintain  the  libeT-al  institutions  granted  by 
Dom  ]'edro  to  Portugal,  and  then  had  broken  his  word, 
with  utter  disregard  of  Great  Britain.  He  had  thrown 
Ih'itish  subjects  into  prison,  English  naval  officers  were 
beaten  in  the  streets  of  Lisbon,  and  he  had  treated  all 
remonstrances  of  England  with  contempt. 

'•I  was  under  the  gallery,"  says  Bulwer,  "when  the 
speech  on  Portuguese  affairs,  which  also  touched  toward 
the  conclusion  on  foreign  affairs  generally,  was  spoken : 
it  was  not  only  com[)osed  with  great  care,  both  as  to 
style  and  argument,  but  singularly  well  delivered,  and 
in  a  tone  which  liappily  combined  conversation  with 
declamation.  Lord  Paln.erston,  in  fact,  never  stood  so 
high  as  an  orator,  until  his  famous  Don  Pacilico  speech, 
as  he  stood  at  that  moment.  He  was  spoken  of  as  the 
rival  of  Peel,  and  the  preference  was  generally  given  to 
his  style  of  eloquence." 

Tn  1831  Dom  Pedro  resigned  the  imperial  crown  of 
Ih'azil  to  his  infant  son,  and  went  to  London  to  join  his 
(laughter.  Donna  j\laria  da  Gloria,  and  fight  his  brother, 
the  usurper,  Dom  ]\Iiguel.  The  Liberal  Government 
under  Earl  Grey  was  friendly,  —  he  had  made  Palmerston 
Foreign  Secretary,  —  and  Dom  Pedro  raised  a  large  loan. 
He  arrived  at  Oporto  in  July,  1832,  with  seventy -five 
hundred  men. 

Dom  Miguel  instantly  laid  siege  to  the  city,  and  sick- 
ness without  and  want  within  made  it  a  memorable 
event.      Finally  Dom  l*edro  con(|uered  by  the  help  of 


li 


74 


LOUD  PALMEIiSrON. 


h 


England  and  Franco,  and  Dom  IMiirnel  was  banished 
from  Portugal,  never  to  return,  under  penalty  of  death. 
Queen  ^laria  da  Gloria  died  in  1853,  and  her  husband, 
the  king-consort,  Dom  Ferdinand  II.,  assumed  the  re- 
gency until  his  eldest  son,  Dom  Fedro  V.,  came  of  age. 

With  Dom  3Iiguel  was  banished  Don  Carlos,  of  Spain, 
the  brother  of  Ferdinand  VII.,  who  tried  to  take  the 
crown  from  his  little  niece,  Isabella.  Dy  the  quadruple 
treaty  signed  April  22,  18.*U,  by  England,  France,  Spain, 
and  Portugal,  the  four  i)Owers  bound  themselves  to  com- 
pel Carlos  and  jMiguel  to  withdraw  from  the  peninsula. 

Falmerston  wrote  his  brother,  Hon.  William  Tem})le, 
then  at  Naples,  concerning  the  treaty:  "I  carried  it 
through  the  Cabinet  by  a  coup  de  main,  taking  them  by 
surprise,  and  not  leaving  them  time  to  make  objection. 
...  It  has  ended  a  war  which  might  otherwise  have  lasted 
months.  ]\Iiguel,  when  he  surrendered,  had  with  him 
from  twelve  to  sixteen  thousand  men,  with  Avliom  he 
could  have  iv  j-ched  into  Spain,  forty-five  pieces  of  artil- 
lery, and  twelve  hundred  cavalry.  .  .  .  But  the  moral 
effect  of  the  treaty  cowed  them  all,  —  generals,  officers, 
men ;  and  that  army  surrendered  without  firing  a  shot." 

After  Canning  died.  Lord  Falmerston  was  called  to 
the  position  of  Foreign  Secretary,  that  place  of  all  others 
for  which  he  was  most  eminently  fitted.  His  hour  had 
come,  and  thereafter,  as  j\[r.  Lloyd  C.  vSanders  says  in 
his  concise  Life  of  Falmerston,  "under  his  auspices  Eng- 
land entered  upon  a  period  of  diplomatic  activity  which 
for  its  extent,  duration,  and  success,  has  but  few  parallels 
in  our  history." 

Falmerston  had  been  reading  all  these  years,  as  his 
journals,  published  by  Lord  Dalling,  Henry  Lytton  Bul- 
wer,  show.     He  had  travelled  much,  could  speak  several 


LORD  PALMER8T0K. 


75 


'  i' 


languages  fluently,  —  he  corresponded  admirably  in 
French  and  Italian  —  had  watched  carefully  the  progress 
and  defeat  of  Napoleon  I.,  longed  for  Italian  unity,  and, 
most  of  all,  wished,  as  lUilwer  says,  "to  make  and  to 
keep  aCngland  at  the  head  of  the  world,  and  to  cherish 
in  the  minds  of  others  the  notion  that  she  was  so." 

He  said,  "As  long  as  England  sympathizes  with  right 
and  justice,  she  will  never  find  herself  alone.  She  is 
sure  to  find  some  other  state  of  sufHcicnt  power,  influence, 
and  weight  to  su^jport  and  aid  her  in  the  course  she  may 
think  lit  to  pursue.  Therefore,  I  say  that  it  is  a  narrow 
policy  to  suppose  that  this  country  or  that  is  marked  out 
as  the  eternal  ally  or  the  perpetual  enemy  of  England. 
We  have  no  eternal  allies,  and  we  have  no  perpetual 
enemies. 

"Our  interests  are  eternal  and  perpetual,  and  those 
interests  it  is  our  duty  to  follow.  And  if  I  might  be 
allowed  to  express  in  one  sentence  the  principle  which  I 
think  ought  to  guide  an  English  minister,  I  would  adopt 
the  expre^  ion  of  Canning  and  say,  that  with  every 
B'-itish  miii.ster  the  interests  of  England  ought  to  be 
*iie  shibboletli  of  policy." 

He  brought  to  this  position  of  Foreign  Secretary,  three 
essentials,  knowledge,  decision,  and  courage,  lie  decided 
quickly  when  he  knew  the  facts,  and  had  the  couraL ;o  to 
go  forward  even  if  England  were  plunged  in  war  i.s  a 
consequence. 

Macaulay  thought  Palmerston  "a  daring,  indefatigable, 
high-'^'pirited  man,  but  too  fond  of  conflict,  and  too  ready 
to  sacrifice  everything  to  victory,  when  once  he  was  in 
the  ring." 

"  From  war,  as  war,"  says  Lord  Shaftesbury,  "  I  believe 
he  shrank  with  horror,  but  lie  was  inflexibly  of  opinion 


m 


Ml 


76 


LOUD  PALMEllsrON. 


that  the  best  way  to  avoid  it  was  to  speak  out  boldly 
and  even  be  prepared  to  meet  the  emergency.  ...  On 
matters  where  he  fully  believed  that  he  was  master  of 
the  subject,  liis  conclusions  were  very  decided  and  posi- 
tively uncliangeable.  This  was  the  case,  for  {»xample, 
as  to  liis  foreign  i)olicy  ;  and  yet  no  one  will  say  that, 
either  in  ])ublic  debate  or  private  conversation,  he  main- 
tained his  oi)inions  offensively ;  and,  in  truth,  on  these 
points  he  was  too  well  satisfied  with  himself  to  be  angry. 
Those  who  then  differed  from  him,  he  regarded  with 
something  like  compassion ;  and  I  am  sure  that  the  sen- 
timent, though  he  did  not  utter  it,  was  often  in  his 
mind,  '  Poor  things  !  they  know  no  better.'  " 

Bulwer  having  come  into  Parliament,  made  Pain  lerston's 
acquaintance  at  a  party  given  by  Lady  Cowper,  whom 
Palmerston  afterwards  married.  He  describes  Palmer- 
ston  as  "a  man  in  the  full  vigor  of  middle  age,  very  well 
dressed,  very  good-looking,  with  the  largo  thick  whiskers 
worn  at  the  time.  His  air  was  more  that  of  a  man  of 
the  drawing-room  than  of  the  senate;  but  he  had  a  clear, 
short,  decisive  way  of  speaking  on  business,  which  struck 
me  at  once.  All  t'le  questions  he  put  to  me  went  straight 
to  the  i)oiut;  and  one  could  see  that  he  was  gathering 
information  for  the  purpose  of  fortifying  opinions,  ' 

PaLnerston's  lirst  great  work  as  Foreign  Secretary  was 
in  securing  the  independence  of  Pelgium.  It  had  In  vn 
agreed  by  the  Allied  Powers  in  1814,  as  a  conse([uen(H' 
of  the  Treaty  of  Paris,  that  Holland  and  Belgium  should 
be  united  under  the  King  of  Holland,  thus  making  tlie 
Netherlands  a  powerful  kingdom  against  any  future 
attacks  of  the  Prench.  A  line  of  fortresses  had  been 
constructed  along  the  frontier,  under  the  supcriiic-Midcnce 
of  Wellington.     The  king  had  promised  to  rule  impar- 


1 


LORD  PALMEIiSTON. 


77 


tially,  but  he  soon  curbed  the  press,  forced  the  Belgians, 
who  had  always  used  the  French  language,  to  speak 
Putch  in  the  ])ublic  courts,  and  made  them  pay  an  undue 
proportion  of  the  taxes. 

After  the  July  Revolution  of  1830  in  France,  Belgium 
revolted.  Tlie  king  of  Holland  asked  the  aid  of  Eng- 
land to  maintain  the  united  kingdom  she  had  helped  to 
form.  France  was  inclined  to  aid  Belgium,  destroy  the 
fortresses  on  the  frontier,  and  perhaps  annex  Belgium 
to  herself. 

A  strong  man  was  needed  at  the  helm  of  state  to  pre- 
vent a  war  between  France  and  England,  and  Palmerston 
was  the  man.  He  felt  that  to  keep  Belgium  from  becom- 
ing a  ^'rench  province,  she  must  have  a  separate  exist- 
ence. 

It  v/as  finally  arranged  that  Belgium  should  be  inde- 
pendent, and  that  the  powers  should  seek  no  augmenta- 
tion of  territory,  a  thing  to  which  Talleyrand,  the  French 
minister  in  London,  was  loath  to  consent.  He  wished 
the  Duchy  of  Luxemburg,  which  belonged  to  the  German 
Confederation,  to  be  handed  over  to  France,  as  the  French 
frontier  was  weak  in  that  direction,  or,  if  this  were  im- 
possible, tliat  France  should  at  least  receive  the  towns 
of  Marienburg  and  Fhilippeville. 

Falmerston  stood  firm.  He  wrote  to  Lord  Granville, 
British  ambassador  at  Faris  :  "  I  do  not  like  all  this ;  it 
looks  as  if  France  was  unchanged  in  her  system  of 
encroachment,  and  it  diminishes  the  confidence  in  her 
sincerity  and  good  faith  which  her  conduct  up  to  this 
time  had  ins[)ired.  It  may  not  be  amiss  for  you  to  hint, 
upon  any  fitting  occasion,  that  though  we  are  anxious  to 
cultivate  the  best  understanding  with  France,  anil  to  be 
on  the  terms  of  the  most  intimate  friendship  with  her. 


J   >1 


78 


LOIil)  PALME IISTOX. 


yet  iliat  it  is  oiilv  oii  tlio  supposition  that  she  contents 
liersell  with  the  finest  territory  in  Europe,  and  does  not 
mean  to  open  a  new  cliiipter  ot  encroachment  and  con- 
quest." He  wrote  Liter  to  Granville  that  Talleyrand 
''fou'^lit  like  a  drawn''  for  territorial  acquisition. 

The  Belgians  wished  to  choose  for  their  sovereign  the 
Due  (le  Xemours,  second  son  of  Louis  Philippe.  Palmer- 
ston  at  once  informed  Talleyrand  that  such  a  union  be- 
tween France  and  Belgium  would  be  made  at  the  risk  of  a 
war  with  England.  Immediately  France  began  military 
preparations  on  a  large  scale,  and  England  did  the  same. 
Talleyrand  asked  Palmerston  about  ''the  naval  arma- 
ments going  on  in  England."  Palmerston  said  "the 
best  reply  he  could  make  to  that  question  was  by  asking 
another,  namely,  'TV  hat  was  the  nature  and  object  of  the 
naval  armament  in  tlie  French  ports  ?  '  " 

The  Belgians  tinally  chose  Prince  Leopold  of  Saxe- 
Coburg,  as  their  king,  who  agreed  to  marry  a  French 
princess,  and  good  feeling  was  restored.  Prince  Leo- 
pold seemed  the  wisest  ])ossible  choice,  lie  was  at  this 
time  about  forty  years  of  age,  a  scholar,  a  soldier,  and  a 
statesman.  When  a  youth  he  had  travelled  extensiveV, 
s])eaking  several  languages.  He  had  served  in  the  lius- 
sian  army.  At  Lutzen,  at  Gersdoi-f.  and  other  battle- 
fields, he  had  been  so  brave  that  he  had  received  the 
orders  of  IMaria  Theresa,  St.  George,  Black  Eagle,  and 
St.  Andrew.  At  the  battle  of  Leipsic  lie  held  a  most 
dangerous  post.  He  re-enforced  Blucher,  took  part  in  the 
battle  of  Brienne,  and,  March  31,  entered  Paris  with  the 
allied  armies. 

A.fter  this  he  visited  England,  and  was  received  with 
great  delight.  He  was  twenty-three,  handsome,  and 
talented.     Charlotte,  only  daughter  of  George  IV.,  then 


LOllB  PALMi:nSTOX. 


71) 


I       rJ 

I',      ''1 


Prince  of  Wales,  was  the  idol  of  the  Knglisli  nation, 
and  the  heir  to  Lhe  throne.  She  was  twenty -one,  lovely 
and  attraotiv'e  in  face,  and  of  unusual  mental  attain- 
ments. Slie  had  become  especially  endeared  to  the 
nation  by  her  devotion  to  her  mother,  Caroline  of  Bruns- 
wick, separated  from  her  husband;  nnd  through  the 
hope  that  England  would,  in  her,  have  a  reign  of  peace 
and  virtue  after  the  corrupt  and  extravagant  Georges. 

She  had  many  offers  of  marriage,  but  she  preferred 
and  accepted  I'rince  Leopold.  They  were  married  ^lay 
2,  1810,  and  England  gave  him  a  pension  of  fifty  thou- 
sand pounds,  with  the  rank  of  general.  He  took  his 
bride  to  Claremont,  where,  in  the  autun.m  of  the  follow- 
ing year,  she  died  at  the  birtlv  of  her  child,  also  dead. 

England  perhaps  never  before  nor  since  so  mcarned  a 
human  being.  At  the  funeral,  when  she  Avas  buried  in 
the  royal  vaults  at  Windsor,  more  than  two  hundred 
thousand  persons,  all  dressed  in  black,  came  to  pay 
reverence  to  their  dead.  Thousands,  since  that  time, 
have  stood  by  that  beautiful  monument  in  St.  George's 
Chapel,  and  felt  their  hearts  grow  tender  as  they  looked 
upon  the  marble  figure  of  the  mother  and  her  babe. 

Leopold  resolved  never  to  leave  Claremont,  and  built 
in  his  garden  a  little  temide  to  the  memory  of  Charlotte, 
placing  her  bust  within  it.  England  made  him  Prince 
Royal,  Field  ^larshal,  and  Privy  Councillor. 

Fifteen  years  later  he  acce})ted  the  throne  of  Belgium, 
and  married,  for  reasons  of  state,  tlie  daughter  of  Louis 
Philipi)e,  August  9,  1832.  She  died  in  October  of  1850, 
greatly  regretted  by  the  nation  to  whom  she  had  en- 
dean.d  herself. 

When  L(>opold  ascended  tlie  throne,  he  said,  "My 
whole  ambition  is  to  contribute  to  the  happiness  of  my 


ill 


I,.:.. 


80 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


fellow  creatures.  ...  I  have  no  desire  for  it  but  to 
enable  me  to  do  good  —  a  good  which  will  be  i^ermanent." 

Leopold  I.  proved  himself  a  noble  ruler.  When,  in 
1848,  all  Europe  seemed  in  convulsion,  and  the  people  of 
Jklgium  began  to  feel  the  spirit  of  revolution,  he  said, 
''  Have  a  republic  if  you  like,  but  do  not  have  a  violent 
revolution.  I  am  ready  to  resign  it  whenever  you 
choose.  ...  I  will  depart  v/ithout  putting  you  to  the 
trouble  of  barricades."  He  died  at  Laeken,  near  P)rus- 
sels,  December,  1865,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  able  and 
scholarly  son,  Leopold  II. 

Palmerston  had  had  much  to  combat  in  winning 
independence  for  Belgium  ;  indeed,  success  is  never  an 
easy  matter.  He  said  that  "  he  had  been  ridiculed  on 
all  hands,  and  held  up  to  the  derision  of  that  House, 
and  that  of  the  country."  Some  laughed  at  his  endeav- 
ors to  "  preserve  jieace  by  protocols  ;  "  some  were  angry 
that  at  the  last,  England  and  France  united  to  compel, 
by  force  of  arms,  the  King  of  Holland  to  recognize  the 
kingdom  of  IJelgium ;  but  posterity  has  seen  that  a 
peaceable  and  prosperous  existence  for  I^olgium  was  the 
result  of  Palmerston's  force  and  foresight.  Lord  Gran- 
ville said  that  "contempt  for  clamor  and  abuse  was  one 
of  Palmerston's  finest  characteristics,"  and,  but  for  this 
i!iu!  his  cour^jge,  he  could  never  have  accomplished  what 
he  did.  Ue  x.'^'nl  often  to  say,  "One  must  take  men  as 
one  finH.s  them^  nnd  make  the  best  of  what  is,  shut  one's 
cAcs  tj  failings  and  faulio,  and  dwell,  as  much  as  one 
ca'i,  upon  goo;i  points," 

i'dlmDryinn  so  ^bsorbv.'d  in  matters  of  state  that  he 
took  ro  Wi'M'  for  society  while  Parliament  was  in  ses- 
sion, did  :.vi',  forget  the  cause  of  human  freedom  in  the 
colonies.     He  wrote  to  liis  brother  in  1S33 :  "  Both  West 


LOBT)   rALMETtSTON. 


81 


Indians  and  saints  are  moderately  rZ/i-satisfied  with  our 
plans  for  the  abolition  of  slavery.  To  be  sure,  we  give 
the  West  Indians  a  tolerably  good  compensation.  I 
really  believe  that  the  twenty  millions  whieli  are  to  be 
voted  for  them  are  about  the  whole  value  of  all  the 
estates  at  the  present  market  price  ;  so  that  they  will 
receive  nearly  the  value  of  their  estates,  and  keep  those 
estates  into  the  bargain.  I  must  say  it  is  a  splendid 
instance  of  generosity  and  justice,  unexampled  in  the 
history  of  the  world,  to  see  a  nation  (for  it  is  the 
national  will,  and  not  merely  the  resolve  of  the  Govern- 
ment or  the  Parliament)  emancipate  seven  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  slaves,  and  pay  twenty  millions  sterling  to 
their  owners  as  compensation  for  the  loss  they  w'lll  sus- 
tain. People  sometimes  are  greatly  generous  ;it  the 
expense  of  others,  but  it  is  not  often  that  men  are  found 
to  pay  so  high  a  price  for  the  luxury  of  doing  r  loble 
action."  Slavery  in  the  West  Indies  w\as  ah 
August  -1,  1834,  wdth  a  compensation  to  the  ow 
twenty  million  pounds. 

During  these  years,  Turkeji^as  usual,  was  d^  urbing 
the  peace  of  Europe.  Mehemet  Ali,  the  "  sha  of 
Egyft,  had  risen  in  revolt  against  the  Sultan  l^dimoud. 
The  latter  appealed  to  England  for  aid,  wliich  the  Cabi- 
net refused.  Then  he  asked  Russia  to  help,  ;iii  .  imme- 
diately an  army  was  despatclied  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Bosphorus,  and  Constantinople  was  saved.  But  Turkey 
put  herself,  by  the  treaty  of  Unkiar  Skeless'  signed 
between  Turkey  and  Russia,  July  8,  1833,  under  the 
control  of  the  Tsar  Nicholas,  and  promised  "  to  close 
the  Strait  of  the  Dardanelles,  that  is  to  say,  not  to  allow 
any  foreign  vessels  of  war  to  enter  t-berein  under  any 
pretext  \yhi;vtever." 


shed 
rs  of 


1 


82 


LOUD  PALMEIiSTOX. 


i  i 


Both  England  and  France  were  indignant  at  this 
treaty.  Mehemet  Ali,  tliough  conquered  for  the  time, 
Avas  not  to  remain  subject.  In  1830  the  Sultan  declared 
w:ii'  against  his  .rrepressible  vassal.  The  Sultan  died 
soon  after,  and  the  Lord  High  Admiral  of  the  Ottoman 
fleet  treacherously  handed  over  his  fleet  to  ^Mehemet 
Ali. 

Talmerston  at  once  determined  the  part  he  was  to  act. 
I'^i-mee  was  willing  that  Mehemet  Ali  should  govern  not 
only  Egyi)t,  but  Syria  and  Arabiii,  and  so  make  for  her- 
self an  open  door  to  India,  "ivcmusat,"  wrote  Palmer- 
ston  to  Granville,  "has  let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag,  by 
declaring  that  France,  in  protecting  Mehemet  Ali,  meant 
to  establish  a  new  second-rate  maritime  power  in  the 
]\Ieditevranean,  whose  feet  in'ujJit  unite  with  that  of 
France  for  the  j)urpose  of  servhif)  as  a  counterpoise  to 
that  of  England.     Tliat  is  plain-spoken,  at  all  events." 

Palmerston  at  once  caused  the  Quadrilateral  Alliance 
to  be  formed,  July  15,  1840,  whereby  l\u*sia,  Austria, 
Prussia,  and  Turkey  bound  then) selves  in  aid  of  the 
latter,  and  to  conquer  the  Pasha  of  Egypt.  But  all  was 
not  peace  among  these  allies.  jMetternich  of  Austria 
wished  to  give  only  moral  support,  not  to  use  arms. 
Prussia  was  Aveak,  and  followed  the  lead  of  Austria. 
The  English  Court  Avas  against  I'almerston.  The  Cabi- 
net feared  an  ojien  ru])ture  with  France,  as  Thiers  the 
Prime  Minister,  was  eagi'r  for  w;;r.  Lord  IVIelbourne, 
then  Premier  of  England,  only  gave  liis  consent  to  the 
alliance,  because  Palmerston  threatened  to  resign  if  he 
did  not. 

Palmerston  lield  steadily  but  firmly  to  his  position. 
He  seemed  to  rule  England  —  England  certainly  did  not 
rule  him.      He  wrote  to  P>ulwer,   charye    d'affaires  at 


LORD  PALMERSrOX. 


83 


lI 


3 


]\ans :  "If  Thiers  shoulrl  aG^ain  hold  out  to  you  the 
language  of  menaco,  however  iiulistinctly  and  vaguely 
shadowed  out,  .  .  .  convey  to  him  in  the  most  friendly 
and  unoffensive  manner  possible,  that,  if  France  throws 
down  the  gauntlet  of  war,  we  shall  not  refuse  to  i)iek  it 
up  ;  and  that  if  she  begins  a  war,  she  will,  to  a  certainty, 
lose  her  ships,  colonies,  and  commerce,  before  she  sees 
the  end  of  it;  that  her  army  of  Algiers  will  cease  to 
give  her  anxiety,  and  that  Mcljemet  Al^  u'U  just  be 
cliuched  into  the  Nile."  The  war  ministex,  ihiers,  was 
dismissed  by  Louis  IMiilippe,  and  Guizot  called  to  power. 
Evidently  Palmerston's  strong  words  were  taking  effect. 

The  Allied  fleet  bombarded  Bey  rout,  September  IG; 
Commodore  Charles  Napier  took  Sidon,  September  26;  and 
Acre  surrendered  November  3.  France  now  desired  to 
assist  in  the  final  settlement,  but  Palmerston  wrote 
Granville  that  such  a  thing  could  not  be  allowed.  "  If 
France  hadjoined  us  in  July,  and  had  been  party  to  the 
coercive  measures  we  uiulertook,  we  should  have  been 
delighted  to  have  Jiad  her  assistance;,  and  she  would 
have  come  in  as  an  ally  and  protector  of  the  Sultan." 

Palmerston  obtained,  by  a  convention  concluded  at 
London,  July  13,  1841,  such  terms  as  made  Egypt  sub- 
missive to  the  Sultan,  and  Turkey  saved  from  the  domin- 
ion of  Russia.  Tlu;  LKirdanelles  and  the  Bosphorus 
were  closed  to  the  ships  of  war  of  all  the  Bowers. 

]*almer.ston  had  by  such  courage,  wisdom,  and  diplo- 
macy, "raised,"  says  Sanders,  "the  prestige  of  Englana 
throughout  Euro})e  to  a  height  which  it  haa  not  occupied 
since  Waterloo.  He  had  created  Belgium,  saved  I'ortu- 
gal  and  Spain  from  absolutism,  rescued  Turkey  from 
Russia,  and  the  highway  to  Iiulia  from  F'rance.  He  had, 
in  fact,  reached  the  zenith  of  his  career  as  foreiirn  min- 


m 


i 


84 


LOUD  PALMEliSTOY. 


i 


ister.  and  Canning,  tliouoh  far  greater  in  Ins  conceptions, 
liad  been  completely  outdone  by  his  dic^oiple  in  perform- 


ances.' 


The  Greville  Memoirs  state  that  "Madame  de  Fla- 
hault  had  a  letter  written  by  Talleyrand  soon  after  his 
first  arrival  in  England,  in  which  lie  talked  with  great 
contempt  of  the  ministeis  generally,  Lord  Gr^^y  in- 
cluded, and  saio  that  there  was  but  one  statesman  among 
tlh-^m,  and  that  was  ralmerston.  His  ordinary  con- 
versation exhibits  no  such  superiority ;  but  when  he 
takes  his  pen  in  his  hand,  his  intellect  seems  to  have 
full  play,  and  probably  wlien  engaged  exclusively  in 
business." 

A  great  lender  among  great  men,  wealthy,  happy- 
tempered,  and  much  sought  after,  Talmerston  seemed  to 
need  but  one  thing  to  make  life  complete, — a  union 
with  the  lady  wlioui  he,  as  well  as  all  England,  had  long 
admired.  This  was  Lad\  Cowper,  a  brilliant  leader  in 
society,  especially  remarkable  for  her  knowledge  of  poli- 
tics and  literature,  her  charm  of  manner,  her  enthusiasm, 
her  tact,  and  her  good  sense.  She  was  a  sister  of  Lord 
i\Ielbourne,  the  Premier,  and  the  mother  of  three  sons 
and  two  daughters,  Emily,  wife  of  Lord  Shaftesbury, 
being  one  of  them.  Greville  says  :  "  Lady  Cowper  and 
her  daughters  inspect  personally  the  cottages  and  condi- 
tions of  the  poor.  They  visit,  inquire,  and  give;  they 
distribute  flannel,  medicines,  money,  and  they  talk  to 
ami  are  kind  to  them;  so  that  the  result  is  a  per])etual 
stream  flowing  from  a  real  fountain  of  benevolence, 
which  waters  all  tlie  country  round,  and  gladdens  the 
hearts  of  the  peasantry,  and  attaches  them  to  those  from 
whom  it  emanates.  Lord  Cow])er,  to  whom  Lady 
Cowper  was  married  at  eighteen,  had  died   in  1837,  and 


» 

I  \ 

1  '■> 


^ 


LORD  PAlMEIiSTON. 


S5 


she  aiul  Palmerstou   were  married  December  10,  1839. 
when  she  was  titty-two,  and  he  tifty-five. 

It  was  thorougldy  a  love  union.  Lord  Shaftesbury 
said:  "His  attentions  to  Lady  l*almerston,  wlien  tliey 
both  of  them  were  well  stricken  in  years,  were  those  of 
a  ])or})etual  courtship.  The  sentiment  was  reciprocal  j 
and  I  have  frequently  seen  them  go  out  on  a  morning  to 
plant  sonu^  trees,  almost  believing  that  they  would  live 
to  eat  the  fruit,  or  sit  together  under  their  shade." 
Shaftesbury  rejoiced  tliat  she  outlived  her  husband  by 
four  years,  as  he  thought  Palmerston  could  not  have 
lived  had  she  been  taken  first,  so  devoted  was  he  to  her. 
When  past  eighty,  and  near  his  own  death,  "the  most 
touching  and  characteristic  feature  of  his  bearing,"  says 
Hon.  Evelyn  Ashley,  the  son  of  Shaftesbury,  "  was 
his  solicitude  to  avoid  adding  to  Ladv  Palmerston's 
anxiety,  and  the  cheerfulness  wdiich  he  assumed  in  her 
presence." 

Like  his  wife,  Palmerston  was  thoughtful  and  kind  to 
his  tenants.  Ashley  says :  "  One  day  Lady  Palmerston 
brought  him  home  word  that  during  her  drive  she  had 
heard  of  one  of  his  tenants  having  met  with  a  serious 
accident.  Although  it  was  late,  and  the  hour  for  his 
daily  work  in  his  library,  he  instantly  ordered  his  horse, 
and  within  half  an  hour  was  by  the  side  of  what  proved 
to  be  a  dying  man." 

After  Lady  Palmerston's  death,  Shaftesbury  wrote  in 
his  journal :  "  To  my  dying  hour  I  shall  remember  hei 
perpetual  sunshine  of  expression  and  affectionate  grace 
the  outward  sign  of  inward  sincerity,  of  kindness,  gen 
erosity,  and  love.  Her  pleasure  was  to  see  others 
jileased  ;  and  without  ;irt  or  effort,  or  even  intention, 
she  fascinated  every  one  who  came  within  her  influence. 


11 


i     : 


m 


Lonb  PALMICIISTO^. 


Forty  years  have  I  been  lior  son-in-law,  and  durin.«,'  all 
tliat  long  time  she  has  been  to  me  a  well-spring  of  ten- 
der friendship  and  affectionate  service.   .  .  . 

'<  Few  great  men,  and  no  women  except  those  wlio 
liave  sat  upon  thrones,  liave  received  after  death  such 
ahunchmt  and  sincere  testimonies  of  admiration,  re- 
spect, and  affection.  The  press  has  teemed  with  artich's 
descriptive  of  her  life  and  character,  all  radiant  with 
feeling  and  expressive  of  real  sorrow.  None  surpassed 
tlie  Tunes  in  delineation  and  eulogy." 

The  Times  said,  "To  place  her  husl)and  and  keep  him 
in  what  siie  thought  his  proper  [)osition  ;  to  make  people 
see  him  as  she  saw  him  ;  to  bring  lukewarm  friends, 
carping  rivals,  or  exasperated  enemies,  within  tln^  genial 
atm(jsi)here  of  his  conversation;  to  tone  down  opposi- 
tion, and  conciliate  sup[)ort  —  tliis  was  henceforth  the 
fixed  [jurpose  and  master  [)assion  of  her  life.  .  .  . 

"The  attraction  of  Lady  I'almerston's  sa/o^  at  its 
commencement  was  the  mixed,  yet  select  and  refined, 
character  of  the  assend)lage,  the  result  of  that  ex(|uisite 
tact  and  high-breed'ng  which  secured  her  the  full  bene- 
fits of  exclusiveness  without  its  drawbacks.  Tlie  diplo- 
matic corps  eagerly  congregated  at  tlie  house  of  the 
Secretary  for  Foreign  Affairs.  So  did  the  ])oliti('ia,ns. 
The  leading  members  of  the  fine  world  wen;  her  hal)itual 
associates,  and  the  grand  ditliculty  of  her  self-appointed 
task  lay  in  recruiting  from  among  the  rising  celebrities 
of  ]iul)lic  life,  fashion,  or  literature.  .  .  . 

"  The  services  of  tlic  great  lady  to  the  great  states- 
man extended  far  beyond  this  creation  of  a  so/on.  What 
superficial  observers  mistook  for  indiscretion  was  emi- 
nently useful  to  him.  She  always  understood  full  w(dl 
what  she  was  telling,  to  whom  she  was  telling  it,  when 


L ORD  PA  L MEIi S  TON. 


87 


and  where  it  should  be  repeated,  and  whether  tlie  rej)e- 
tition  wouUl  do  harm  or  good.  Instead  ol  the  scerrt 
that  was  betrayed,  it  was  the  feeler  that  was  put  torth ; 
and  no  one  ever  knew  from  or  through  Lady  I'aliiicisLon 
what  Lord  ]*almerston  did  not  wish  to  be  known.'' 

What  I'alnierston's  married  life  would  have  been  with 
a  woman  wlio  knew  little  of  the  great  (questions  ol'  the 
day,  of  polities,  and  still  less  of  books,  it  is  not  dillicult 
to  see.  Pretty  women  gave  him  homage,  but  he  had 
the  good  sense  to  seek  for  companionship,  and  found  it. 
jNlany  women  are  not  averse  to  marrying  prominent 
statesmen,  but  do  not  always  ask  themselves  if  they  are 
intellectually  fitted  to  hold  the  admiration  they  may 
have  won,  or  to  help  the  leader  in  his  work.  To  win 
affection  is  one  thing,  to  hold  it  as  long  as  life  lasts  is 
quite  another  thing. 

When  Sir  Robert  Teel  became  Premier,  in  1841,  Lord 
Aberdeen  was  appointed  Foreign  Secretary  instead  of 
Pahnerston,  though  the  latter  was  still  a  member  of 
Parliament.  He  again  became  Foreign  Secretary  umlcr 
Lord  John  Kussell  in  LS47.  Through  these  six  years 
occurred  the  unfortunate  Chinese  War,  concluded  in 
1842,  when  Hong  Kong  was  ceded  to  England,  five  ports 
were  thrown  open  to  IJritish  traders,  and  four  luillions 
and  a  half  sterling  paid  as  indemnity.  Pahnerston  on  the 
whole  favored  the  war,  which  many  of  his  countrymen 
have  heartily  condemned.  He  also  favored,  though  he 
did  not  assume  the  res})onsibility  for,  the  Afglian  War, 
which  proved  in  the  end  most  disastrous  to  England. 

Afghanistan  lies  between  I'ersia  and  India,  and  has 
always  been  the  great  highway  from  Western  to  Eastern 
Asia.  The  founder  of  the  Afghan  empire,  Ahmed  Sliah, 
died  in  1773.     After  the  death  of  his  son  Timur  Shah, 


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LOIiD  PA LMEliS TO.X. 


dissensions  aroso,  and  a  rival,  J)o.st  :\ra]ionied  Khan,  be- 
came the  liead  of  Cabul,  then  one  of  the  three  indei)end- 
ent  i)rincii»alitics  of  Afglianistan.  Persia,  the  friend  of 
Eiissia,  made  war  njjon  Herat,  one  of  the  three  prinei- 
I)alities,  and  it  was  (h'chired  by  the  ministers  of  the  Shall 
that  J'ersia  intended  after  the  capture  of  Herat  to  con- 
(pier  the  remainder  of  Aft^hanistan. 

England,  always  sensitive  about  Russian  interference 
with  lier  Indian  i)ossessions,  felt  that  Afghanistan  must 
be  ruled  by  men  friendly  to  her  interests.  While  Dost 
;^^ahomed  professed  friendship  for  England,  his  profes- 
sions were  distrusted  —  England  had  declined  to  aid 
him,  and  he  had  sided  with  Kussia  —  and  Lord  Auck- 
land, Governor-general  of  India,  resolved  to  drive  him 
from  Cabul,  and  restore  a  relative  of  Timur  Shah  to 
the  throne,  —  Sujah  Shah,  whom  Dost  Mahomed  had 
overthrown. 

The  British  army  had  to  force  its  way  through  Seinde, 
a  peaceful  country;  it  waded  through  rivers,  and  hewed 
paths  through  jungles,  the  murderous  Beluchees  hover- 
ing on  its  flaidvs.  Ghuzni,  defended  by  one  of  Dost 
Mahomed's  sons,  was  stormed  and  taken.  Jellalabad, 
defended  by  Akbar  Khan,  another  of  Dost  ^Mahonu'd's 
sons,  was  captured.  Dost  ^Mahomed  was  driven  from 
Cabul,  and  Sujah  Shah,  escorted  by  British  troops,  was 
nuide  the  ruler. 

England  had  conquered,  and  there  was  rejoicing  in 
Great  Britain.  She  left  eight  thousand  men  to  defend 
the  new  ruler,  and  felt  that  peace  was  assured. 

Sujah  Shall  was  incompetent,  and  Dost  ]Mahomed  was 
able  and  beloved  by  his  peoplt\  The  latter  did  not  long 
remain  inactive.  He  fought  l)niv(d3',  ^"t  could  not  con- 
tend  forever  against  so  great  a  power  as  England,  and 


LORD  PALMEllSTON. 


89 


finally  went  to  India,  where  England  gave  him  a  resi- 
dence and  a  revenue. 

On  November  2,  1841,  an  insurrection  broke  out  in 
Cabul.  Tlie  daring  Akbar  Khan  was  called  to  lead  the 
enemy.  lie  defeated  the  English,  killing  many  of  the 
officers,  some  of  whose  mangled  bodies  were  exhibited 
in  triumi)h  in  the  streets  and  bazaars  of  Cabul.  He  was 
urged  by  the  frantic  Afghans  to  kill  all  the  English,  and 
it  was  difficult  to  save  them  from  the  natives.  The 
English  were  at  once  told  to  leave  the  country,  release 
Dost  Mahomed  and  his  family,  and  hand  over  as  host- 
ages six  officers  until  these  matters  were  accomplished. 

The  de]iarture  of  the  English  from  Cabul  was  terrible. 
Justin  ]\I(;Carthy,  in  his  "  History  of  Our  Own  Times," 
tlius  describes  this  never-to-be-forgotten  march:  "It 
was  the  heart  of  a  cruel  winter.  The  English  had  to 
make  their  way  through  the  awful  Pass  of  Koord  Cabul. 
This  stupendous  gorge  runs  for  some  five  miles  between 
mountain  ranges  so  narrow,  lofty,  and  grim,  that  in  the 
winter  season  the  rays  of  the  sun  can  hardly  pierce  its 
darkness  even  at  the  noontide.  Down  the  centre  dashed 
a  i)reci[)itous  mountain  torrent  so  fiercely  that  the  stern 
frost  of  that  terrible  time  could  not  stay  its  course. 
The  snow  lay  in  masses  on  the  ground ;  the  rocks  and 
stoiu\s  that  raised  their  heads  above  the  snow  in  the  way 
of  the  unfortunate  travellers  were  slippery  with  frost. 
Soon  the  white  snow  began  to  be  stained  and  splashed 
with  blood. 

"  Fearful  as  this  Koord  Cabid  Pass  was,  it  was  only 
a  degree  worse  than  the  road  which  for  two  whole  days 
the  English  had  to  traverse  to  reach  it.  The  army  which 
set  out  from  Cabul  numbered  more  than  four  thousand 
lighting  men,  of  whom  Europeans  formed  but  a  small 


'W 
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P, 


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00 


LOUD   PALMFAISTON. 


proportion;  and  some  twelve  thousand  camp  followers 
of    all    kinds.      There    were    also    many    women   and 

children.  .  .  . 

"  The  winter  journey  would  have  been  cruel  and  dan- 
gerous enough  in  time  of  peace;  but  this  journc^y  had 
to  be  accoini)lishe(l  in  the  midst  of  something  far  worse 
than  common  war.  At  every  step  of  the  road,  every 
opening  of  the  rocks,  the  unhappy  crowd  of  confused 
and  heterogeneous  fugitives  were  beset  by  bands  of 
savage  fanatics,  who  with  their  long  guns  and  long 
knives  were  murdering  all  they  could  reach.  .  .  . 

<'Tlie  English  soldiers,  weary,  weak,  and  crippled  by 
frost,  could  make  l)ut  a  poor  fight  against  the  savage 
Afghans.  jNIen,  women,  and  children,  horses,  ponies, 
camels,  the  wounded,  the  dying,  the  dead,  all  crowded 
together  in  almost  inextricable  confusion  among  the 
snow  and  amid  the  relentless  enemies." 

"The  massacre,"  says  Sir  .1.  W.  Kaye  in  his  "Afghan- 
istan War,"  "  was  fearful  in  this  Koord  Cabul  I 'ass. 
Three  thousand  men  are  said  to  have  fallen  under  the 
fire  of  the  enemy,  or  to  have  dropped  down  ])araly/,ed 
and  exhausted,  to  be  slaughtered  by  the  Afghan  knives. 
And  amidst  these  feiirful  scenes  of  carnage,  through  a 
shower  of  matchlock  balls  rode  English  ladies  on  horse- 
back or  in  camel  paniers,  sometimes  vaiidy  endeavoring 
to  keep  thei."  children  beneath  their  eyes,  and  losing 
them  in  the  confusion  and  bewilderment  of  the  desolating 
march." 

Akbar  Khan,  who  accompanied  the  army,  but  who 
could  not  prevent,  he  said,  the  murdering  of  the  English, 
now  arrang(>d  that  the  women  and  children,  and  later  it 
was  agreed  the  husbands  of  these  women  also,  should  be 
conveyed  by  him  in  safety  to  Peshawur. 


LOUD   PA LMEliSTON. 


01 


"Then,"  says  ^rcCarthy,  "  tlie  mareh  of  tlie  army 
without  a  general  went  on  again.  Soon  it  became  the 
story  of  a  general  without  an  army  ;  before  very  long 
there  was  neither  general  nor  army.  Tlie  straggling 
remnant  of  an  army  entered  tlie  Jugdulluk  Pass — a 
dark,  steep,  narrow,  ascending  path  between  (!rags.  The 
miserable  toilers  found  that  the  fanatical,  implacable 
tribes  had  barricaded  the  pass.  All  was  over.  The 
army  o|  Cabul  was  finally  extinguished  in  that  barri- 
caded pass.     It  was  a  trap :  the  British  were  taken  in  it. 

"  A  few  mere  fugitives  escaped  from  the  scene  of 
actual  slaughter,  and  were  on  the  road  to  Jellalabad, 
where  Sale  and  his  little  army  were  holding  their  own. 
When  they  were  within  sixteen  miles  of  Jellalabad  the 
number  was  reduced  to  six.  Of  these  six,  five  were 
killed  by  straggling  marauders  on  the  way.  One  man 
alone  reached  Jellalabad  to  tell  the  tale.  Literally,  one 
man,  Dr.  Hrydon,  came  to  Jellalabad  out  of  a  moving 
host  which  had  numbered  in  all  some  sixteen  thousand 
when  it  set  out  on  its  march. 

"The  curious  eye  will  search  through  history  or  fiction 
in  vain  for  any  picture  more  thrilling  with  the  sugges- 
tions of  an  awful  catastrophe  than  that  of  this  solitary 
survivor,  faint  and  reeling  on  his  jaded  horse,  as  he 
appeared  under  the  walls  of  Jellalabad,  to  bear  the  tid- 
ings of  our  TherinopyUe  of  pain  and  shame." 

Sir  Robert  Sale  defended  Jellalabad,  and  defeated 
Akbar  Khan  who  besieged  it.  The  women  and  children, 
after  enduring  the  greatest  [)rivations,  were  rescued. 
Finally,  in  April,  1<S42,  General  Pollock  came  to  the 
relief  of  Jellalabad.  At  the  Jugdulluk  Pass  he  met  and 
defeated  the  enemy  in  Se})tember.  Here,  where  eight 
months  before  the  English  army  had  been  entrapped, 


,t" 


i 


1  ■ 


I 


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4  'V\ 


i 


92 


LORD   PALMERSTON. 


■!      :        I 


wri 


rites  Pliilip  F.  Walker  in  his  '' A.fglianistan,"  "the 
skeletons  lay  so  thick  that  they  liad  to  be  cleared  away 
to  allow  the  guns  to  pass.  The  savage  grandeur  of  the 
scene  rendered  it  a  fitting  place  for  the  deed  of  blood 
which  had  been  enacted  under  its  horrid  shade,  never 
yet  pierced  in  some  places  by  sunlight.  The  road  was 
strewn  for  two  miles  with  mouldering  skeletons  like  a 
charnel-house." 

General  Pollock  entered  Cabul,  September  15,  and  de- 
stroyed the  great  bazaar,  where  the  mutilated  bodies  of 
the  British  officers  had  been  displayed. 

Meantime,  the  Sujah  Shah  had  been  assassinated, 
and  his  son  also.  Dost  ]\[ahomed  returned  to  Cabul,  and 
ruled  until  his  death,  in  1803,  —  he  conquered  Herat  a 
few  days  before  his  death,  —  when  he  was  succeeded  by 
his  son  Shore  Ali. 

During  these  years,  1841-1847,  Palmerston  and  Daniel 
Webster  had  a  spirited  war  of  words  over  the  burning 
by  the  British  of  the  Caroline,  an  American  vessel  which 
had  carried  stores  to  Canada  during  her  rebellion ;  and 
over  the  boundary  line  between  Canada  and  the  United 
States,  finally  settled  by  the  Ashburton  Treaty,  under 
the  more  peaceful  administration  of  Lord  Aberdeen. 

In  1847,  when  Palmerston  was  back  in  power  as  the 
Foreign  Secretary,  it  was  not  without  strong  fears  on 
the  part  of  the  Queen  and  his  own  party  that  he  would 
lead  England  into  war  by  his  boldness.  He  wrote  to 
Sir  Stratford  Canning  in  December,  1850:  "I  believe 
weakness  and  irresolution  are,  on  the  whole,  the  worst 
faults  that  statesmen  can  have.  A  man  of  energy  may 
make  a  wrong  decision,  but,  like  a  strong  horse  that 
carries  you  rashly  into  a  quagmire,  he  brings  you  by  his 
sturdiness  out  on  the  other  side." 


y 


M 


LOUD  PALMETiSTON. 


03 


•< 


At  the  outbreak  of  the  Franco-Austrian  War  in  1859, 
Monsieur  Drouyn  de  Lhuys  said  :  "  I  sigh  for  one  hour 
of  Palmerston.  No  one  knows  better  than  I  do  his  faults. 
1  have  often  suffered  by  them,  and  so  has  EngLand,  and 
so  has  Europe.  l>ut  his  merits,  his  sagacity,  his  courage, 
his  trustworthiness,  are  invaluable  wlien  you  want 

'  A  daring  pilot  in  extremity,' 

with  whom  one  feels  as  if  one  was  mounted  on  a  first- 
rate  hunter,  who  pulls  indeed,  and  rears  and  kicks,  but 
never  swerves,  never  starts,  and  carries  you  over  every- 
tliing  as  long  as  you  give  him  his  head." 

Palmerston  had,  says  Ashley,  "great  pluck,  combined 
with  remarkable  tact;  unfailing  good  temper,  associated 
with  firmness  amounting  almost  to  obstinacy.  He  was 
a  strict  disciplinarian,  and  yet  ready  above  most  men  to 
midvc  allowance  for  the  weakness  and  shortcomings  of 
others.  He  loved  hard  work  in  all  its  details,  and  yet 
took  a  keen  delight  in  many  kinds  of  sport  and  amuse- 
ment. 

"He  believed  in  England  as  the  best  and  greatest 
country  in  the  world,  while  he  had  not  confined  his 
observation  to  her  affairs,  but  knew  and  cared  more 
about  foreign  nations  than  any  other  public  man.  He 
had  little  or  no  vanity  in  his  composition,  and,  as  is  seen 
in  several  of  his  letters  to  his  brother,  he  claimed  but  a 
modest  value  for  his  own  abilities ;  yet  no  man  had  a 
better  opinion  of  his  own  judgment,  or  was  more  full  of 
S(df-confidence." 

No  sooner  was  I'almerston  back  in  office  than  trouble 
began  with  France  over  the  Spanish  marriages.  Por- 
tugal was  in  a  manner  dependent  upon  England. 
Guizot  said  that  France   wished   the  same  close  bond 


\h  1 


y 


94 


LOUD   PALyrEIiSTON. 


between  herself  and  Spain.  The  llo.t?ent  of  Spain, 
Cliristina,  wislicd  her  dnngliter,  Qneen  Isabella,  to  marry 
the  ])ue  d'  Aninale,  tlie  son  of  Louis  Philippe.  This 
the  French  king  refused,  as  he  knew  England  would 
object  to  such  a  union  of  the  Powers ;  but  he  arranged 
for  the  marriage  of  the  sister  of  IsiaLdlil-JUfith  his 
y()inig<'.st  son,  the  Due  de  Montpensier,  promising  Queen 
Victoria  that  the  marriage  should  not  take  place  till 
Isabella  was  married  and  had  children,  so  that  a  French 
prince  should  not  come  to  the  throne. 

Isabella,  after  the  unholy  fashion  of  state  alliances, 
married  her  cousin  Francisco,  Duke  of  Cadiz,  whom 
both  she  and  her  mother  hated;  the  latter  saying  he  was 
"  not  a  man,"  and  Palmerston  called  him  ''  an  absolute  and 
absolutist  fool."  On  the  same  day,  October  10,  1846, 
the  double  marriage  took  place  in  direct  opposition  to 
the  promise  of  Louis  Philippe.  At  once  F]ngland  and 
France  became  enemies.  ]\[etternich  was  angered  and 
said:  "One  does  not  with  im{)unity  play  little  tricks 
with  great  countries.  .  .  .  The  English  Government 
have  done  their  best  to  establish  Louis  I'hilippe  in  pub- 
lic opinion.  They  can  witlidraw  what  they  gave,  and  1 
have  always  said,  the  moment  he  loses  that,  he  is  on  the 
verge  of  war,  and  liis  is  not  a  dynasty  that  can  stand 
war."  In  less  than  two  years  the  Orleans  dynasty  fell, 
in  February,  1848,  and  Louis  J'hilippe  was  an  exile 
in  England.  In  December  of  the  same  year  Louis 
Napoleon  was  declared  president-elect  of  the  French 
Republic.  Queen  Isabella  of  Spain  bore  children,  and 
the  wife  of  the  Due  de  AFontpensier  never  came  to  the 
throne  as  her  father  had  fondly  hoped. 

1848  was  a  year  of  revolutions  in  Europe.     Italy  h.-ul 
long  been  eager  for  independence.     Since  the  day  when 


LORD   PALMEIlSrON. 


95 


ILVJ 


Napoleon  T.  conquered  her  by  arms  and  honeyed  speech  i 
''  reoi)le  of  Italy,  the  French  come  to  break  your  chains  ; 
the  French  people  is  the  frieiul  of  every  people  —  come 
and  welcome  them.  Your  property,  your  customs,  your 
religion,  shall  be  respected ;  we  make  war  like  generous 
enemies,  —  only  against  the  tyrants  who  hold  you 
enslaved:"  since  that  day  in  1790,  she  had  been  torn  by 
dissensions.  Napoleon  told  Prince  Metternich  :  "Never 
will  I  give  Italians  a  liberal  system  ;  I  have  only  granted 
them  the  semblance  of  it." 

Wben  the  Congress  of  Vienna  parcelled  Italy  among 
the  nations,  Austria  took  Lombardy  and  Venice ;  Ferdi- 
nand II.  ruled  the  Two  Sicilies  with  a  rod  of  iron.  The 
King  of  riedmont  kept  that  country,  with  Savoy  and 
Genoa.  Of  course  there  was  dissatisfaction.  Secret 
societies  flourished,  prominent  among  them  the  Car- 
bonari, all  working  for  liberty.  In  the  Two  Sicilies 
there  were  said  to  be  eight  hundred  thousand  Carbonari 
as  early  as  1820. 

Again  and  again  the  different  provinces  revolted,  and 
demanded  constitutions  from  their  sovereigns.  Joseph 
Mazzini,  the  head  of  "young  Italy,"  wished  a  free, 
united  republic. 

In  1848,  quickened  by  the  French  Revolution,  Italy 
was  in  commotion.  Pope  Pius  IX.,  ruler  of  the  Papal 
States,  had  granted  many  reforms.  Others  were  prom- 
ised by  Ferdinand  II.  of  Naples,  Charles  Albert  of 
l*iedmont,  arid  Leopold  II.  of  Tuscany.  Austria  seemed 
about  to  interfere.  Palmerston,  always  a  friend  to 
Italy,  and  a  most  careful  student  of  her  affairs,  wrote  to 
Lord  Ponsonby,  English  minister  at  Vienna,  asking  him 
to  tell  Prince  jNIetternich,  "  If  he  takes  upon  himself 
the   task   of    regulating  by  force  of  arms   the   internal 


!•: 


■  *  '  4   I 


111 
1 1 


I 


^ 


I 


96 


LORD  PALME II STOX. 


affairs  of  tlio  Italian  States,  there  will  infallibly  be  war, 
and  it  will  be  a  war  of  principles,  which,  beginning  in 
Italy,  will  spread  over  all  Europe,  and  out  of  which  the 
Austrian  Knii)ire  will  certainly  not  issue  unchanged.  In 
that  war  England  and  Austria  will  certainly  not  be  on 
the  same  side." 

He  begged  of  Italy  to  keep  in  the  constitutional  line 
she  had  begun  ;  urged  other  nations  to  recognize  the 
French  Kepublic,  and  thus  i)reserve  peace;  entreated  the 
Prussian  Government  not  to  begin  hostilities  against 
Denmark.  When  Austria,  driven  out  of  Venice  and 
Milan,  asked  for  the  ''good  offices  "  of  England,  Tahners- 
ton  replied  that  "  matters  had  gone  too  far."  "  The 
real  fact,"  said  Palmerston,  "  is  that  the  Austrians  have 
no  business  in  Italy  at  all,  and  have  no  real  right  to  be 
there.  .  .  .  The  Treaty  of  Vienna  they  themselves  set 
at  naught  when  they  took  possession  of  Cracow,  and 
they  have  never  fulfilled  their  engagement  to  give 
national  institutions  and  a  national  representation  to 
their  Polish  subjects.  .  .  .  Her  rule  has  always  been 
hateful.  It  is  the  part  of  a  friend  to  tell  the  truth, 
and  the  truth  is  that  Austria  cannot  and  must  not  retain 
Lombardy." 

Austria  was,  of  course,  indignant,  and  Palmersio'- 
was  berated  by  Schwarzenberg,  who  had  succeedcu 
Metternich. 

When  ]\Iilan  and  Venice  revolted,  Charles  Albert 
threw  himself  into  the  national  movement,  to  free  Italy 
from  Austria.  The  hated  Ferdinand  of  Naples  was 
obliged  to  issue  a  proclamation  to  "  his  beloved  people  " 
that  he  would  join  in  the  common  cause. 

So  much  did  he  profess  to  love  the  cause,  that,  though 
he  refused  to  adopt  the  Italian  tricolor,  he  said    he 


I 


LORD   PALMEUSTON. 


97 


"  preferred  the  red  cockade,  as  it  was  the  color  of  the 
heart ! " 

On  ^larch  25,  1848,  Charles  Albert  crossed  the  Ticino 
with  his  enthusiastic  army,  and  attacked  the  A\istrians 
with  success  at  Gaeta.  Five  days  later,  a  battle  was 
fought  at  Tastrongo,  between  the  Mincio  and  the  Adige, 
and  Charles  Albert  was  again  victorious.  The  Austrians 
were  commanded  by  Marshal  lladetzky,  an  aged  man, 
but  an  able  leader.  After  several  weeks  of  almost  con- 
stant fighting,  Charles  Albert  v/as  defeated,  though 
brave,  and  ably  seconded  by  his  sons,  the  Dukes  of 
Savoy  and  Genoa.  The  Duke  of  Savoy  was  afterwards 
Victor  Emmanuel  II.,  the  hero  of  United  Italy. 

Cliarh's  Albert  returned  to  jNIilan  with  the  remainder 
of  his  army,  thirty  thousand  men,  but  was  soon  obliged 
to  capitulate,  and  liadetzky  took  possession  of  the  city. 
Ferdinand  had  treacherously  recalled  his  army  of  six- 
teen thousand  men  from  Charles  Albert,  or  the  tide 
might  have  turned  for  Italy. 

rius  IX.,  while  holding  temporal  power,  did  not  wish 
to  make  war  upon  his  spiritual  subjects,  the  Austrians. 
So  bitter  became  the  hostility  of  his  own  people  that  he 
fled  to  Gaeta.  Later,  Louis  Napoleon  helped  to  reinstate 
him  at  Rome. 

On  j\Iarch  12,  1840,  the  heroic  Charles  Albert  decided 
to  fight  Austria  again.  The  struggle  was  brief.  He 
was  defeated,  Mareli  23,  at  Novaro,  and  with  him  the 
hopes  of  United  Italy  for  many  years.  He  courted 
death  on  the  battle-field.  So  decisive  was  his  defeat 
that  he  abdicated  in  favor  of  the  Duke  of  Savoy, 
hoping  thereby  to  secure  better  terms  for  his  stricken 
country.  He  went  to  Oporto,  the  place  he  selected  for 
his  exile,  and  died  a  few  months  after. 


11 


'tV.    i'f 


*i 


I 


i! 


08 


LOniJ   I'ALMKUSTOX, 


''Little,  iiulood."  writes  John  Webb  Trobyn  in  his 
'•  Ir.'ilv,"  ''did  either  victors  or  vanquished  imagine  that 
1„.  [Victor  i:iiiinannel]  who  liail  thus  begun  liis  reign  on 
t  lie  disastrous  Held  of  Novaro,  would  <'nd  it  at  Konie, 
ivcognized  by  every  European  government  as  the  king 
of   a    tn-e  and  united  Italy,  with  the  Eternal  City  as  its 

eai)ital.'' 

Austrian  victorii's  eontinued.  The  Venetian  Kepublic, 
with  tlh'  lioble  Daniel  Manin  at  its  head,  resolved  to 
resist  Austria  -at  ;<il  costs."  They  determined  "that 
the  silver  of  the  churehes,  the  bronze  of  the  bells,  the 
gold  and  jewels  of  the  wealthy,  the  copper  vessels  of 
the  kitchen,  the  very  bullets  and  bidls  of  the  enemy, 
must  serve  in  the  defence  of  the  city."  Threo  million 
francs  were  raised  at  once.  The  batteries  of  the  lagoons 
close  to  Venice,  with  the  gunboats  in  the  canals,  and 
the  fortitications,  were  made  as  efficient  as  jjossible. 
(Jncc  till'  Ausrrians  made  an  attack  on  the  fortress  of 
Malghera  and  were  defeated. 

I'aliiicrston  wrote  a  letter  full  of  sympathy  to  INIanin, 
but  vo\\\d  do  nothing  more  to  aid  the  republic.  Again 
the  Austriaiis  attacked  ^falghera,  with  one  hundred  and 
fifty  heavy  pieces,  at  a  distance  of  five  hundred  meters. 
Tlic  fort  was  soon  in  ruins.  Finally  provisions  and 
money  grew  scarce  in  Venice.  Cholera  and  other  dis- 
eases were  doing  their  fatal  work.  I'eople  had  left  their 
houses,  demolished  by  shells,  and  had  taken  refuge  in 
the  Doge's  palace.  At  last  the  city  submitted.  On  the 
L'7th  of  August,  lHi\),  the  Austrian  soldiers  defiled  past 
the  closed  doors  and  along  the  deserted  streets  of  Venice, 
and  Manin  and  his  devoted  leaders  went  into  exile. 
Manin  died  eight  years  later,  a  noble  patriot  and  a 
brave  statesnum. 


I 


LOUD  rALMEIiSTON. 


00 


Austria  conquered  Tuscany,  and  Duke  Leoi^old,  v.  ho 
had  tied  to  the  king  of  Naples,  was  restinrd  to  his 
throne,  and  kept  upon  it  by  Austrian  bayonets.  General 
llaynau,  called  the  "Austrian  butcher,"  stormed  and 
took  IJrescia  with  brutal  cruelty.  King  Ferdinand  of 
Nii])les  used  his  sixteen  thousand  soldiers  to  put  an  end 
to  liberty  in  Sicily.  He  conquered  Messina  and 
Palermo. 

The  English  minister  at  Naples  wrote  home  that 
"  The  barbarities  inflicted  on  INIessina  so  disgusted  the 
French  and  Knglish  admirals  that  they  could  not  remain 
j)assive  s[)ectators  of  such  scenes."  Mr.  Gladstone  wrote 
some  remarkable  letters  to  Lord  Aberdeen  on  the  ter- 
rible condition  of  the  i)risons,  filled  with  political  pris- 
oners, and  the  injustice  and  cruelty  of  the  state  trials 
under  *'  IJomba's  "  government,  a  nickname  which  Fer- 
dinand had  gained  by  his  wickedness. 

Palmcrston  was  so  fully  in  sympathy  with  Italy  that 
he  allowed  arms  to  be  supplied  to  the  oicilian  insurgents 
from  the  Ordnance,  aud  had  to  Pvpologize  to  Ferdinand. 
Without  doubt,  if  ralmerston  had  not  been  fettered  by 
a  Court  in  favor  of  Austria,  and  a  Conservative  party 
opposed  to  war,  England  would  have  aided  Italy  by 
arms,  or  s})oken  so  plainly  to  Austria  that  she  would 
have  hesitated  in  her  unholy  attempts  at  subjugation. 

While  Italy  was  in  revolution,  Hungary  had  also 
revolted  agaiiist  Austria.  Hungary  had  long  had  its 
separate  constitution,  parliament,  and  laws,  and  the 
Em})eror  of  Austria  was  also  King  of  Hungary.  Austria 
wished  to  destroy  the  constitution,  and  incorporate 
Hungary  with  the  Empire.  She  called  in  the  aid  of 
Kussia.  Emperor  Nicholas  quickly  responded  with 
one  liundred  and  fifty  thousand  men,  and  Hungary  lay 
prostrate. 


i"  ti 


if 


ii  ■i 


■'^■'n 


if! 


tl 


i> 


! 
i 


100 


I,Oi?Z)  rALMEIiSTOX. 


Palmerston  had  vainly  atteiiipted  to  mediate,  and  pre- 
vent the  assistance  of  Kussia,  but  it  was  impossible. 
When  Hungary  had  been  subdued,  both  Russia  and 
Austria  demanded  that  Turkey  give  up  those  who  had 
fled  thither  for  safety,  among  them  Kossuth  and  Bem,  a 
crippled  Pole,  who  had  led  the  Hungarians  with  great 
success.  The  Sultan  resisted,  and  Russia  and  Austria 
seemed  about  ^o  declare  war. 

Lord  Palmerston  determined  to  support  the  Sultan, 
who  applied  to  England  and  France  for  aid,  in  his  act 
of  humanity  to  the  refugees.  The  Russian  minister  in 
London,  Baron  Briinnow,  was  informed  that  the  British 
fleet  was  to  be  sent  to  the  Dardanelles,  to  strengthen  the 
courage  of  the  Sultan,  ''just  as  one  holds  a  bottle  of  salts 
to  the  nose  of  a  lady  who  has  been  frightened,"  said 
Palmerston.  No  doubt  the  presence  of  the  fleet  was 
invigorating,  and  the  Sultan  refused  to  deliver  up  the 
patriots  to  their  conquerors. 

The  Turkish  Government  feared  at  first  to  let  the 
refugees  depart,  till  Palmerston  wrote  to  Sir  Stratford 
Canning  that  England  was  viewing  with  "  contemptuous 
disgust"  the  conduct  of  "the  Sultan  and  his  white- 
livered  ministers,"  and  that  they  might  be  told  the  same. 
Kossuth  and  his  friends  were  liberated,  and  came  to 
England,  whore  they  were  everywhere  received  with 
ovations,  as  Garibaldi  had  been. 

Palmerston  now  had  to  turn  his  busy  mind  in  another 
direction.  It  was  like  a  game  of  chess,  and  no  doubt  he 
enjoyed  it.  "In  his  day,"  writes  Lord  Shaftesbury,  "he 
was  oftentimes  twitted  with  love  of  office.  He  never 
denied  his  predilection  for  it.  He  even  maintained  that 
the  pursuit  of  it  was  to  some  persons  almost  a  duty. 
He  did  not  think  himself  single  in  this  view ;  for  he 


J 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


101 


:;() 


said  to  me  one  day,  *I  have  never  known  any  public 
man,  who  after  a  certain  tenure  of  office  did  not  pray  to  be 
quit  of  it ;  nor  any  wlio  having  been  turned  out  of  office 
did  not  wish,  after  a  very  short  time,  to  get  back  again.' 

"  Unquestionably  he  was  born  for  a  bureau  ;  the  thing 
and  its  whole  surroundings  were  a  part  of  his  existence. 
It  amounted  to  a  complete  absorption  of  the  man  in  his 
devotion  to  the  special  duties ;  he  then  scarcely  gave  a 
thought  to  other  matters.  And  I  could  adduce  some 
remarkable  instances,  during  times  when  the  pressure 
of  foreign  affairs  was  urgent  and  heavy,  of  his  almc>*-. 
absolute  ignorance  of  what  was  passing  in  the  world,  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  even  in  the  Cabinet." 

The  matter  which  Palmerston  had  now  in  hand  con- 
cerned Greece.  When  Otho  had  been  put  upon  the 
throne  of  Greece  by  England,  France,  and  Kussia,  it 
had  been  as  a  constitutional  monarch.  He  was  in 
reality  an  absolutist,  and  cared  nothing  for  tlie  con- 
stitutigji.  Several  acts  of  lawlessness  had  occurred 
against  Turkish  subjects.  The  house  of  Don  Pacifico, 
cf  Gibraltar,  had  been  broken  into  and  pillaged  in  open 
day  by  a  mob  headed  by  the  sons  of  the  ISIinister  of 
"War.  Palmerston  demanded  redress,  and,  failing  to 
receive  it,  sent  the  British  fleet  to  Athens.  Terms  were 
quickly  agreed  upon,  but  the  Russian  and  French  minis- 
ters were  indignant  that  Palmerston  should  have  acted 
alone. 

There  was  an  attempt  to  censure  Palmerston  in  the 
House  of  Lords.  In  the  House  of  Commons  four  nights 
were  spent  on  the  debate ;  Sir  Robert  Peel  making  his 
last  speech,  and  Gladstone  speaking  eloquently.  On  the 
second  night  Palmerston  s})oke  for  four  hours  and  a 
half,  from  quarter  before  ten  to  twenty  minutes  past 


I  •» 


m-- 


I    .    'vl 


M 


I 


I    ; 


i     I  •  ' 


! 


t 


U)-2 


L  OliD  PA  L MER S  TON". 


two  o'clock,  reviewing  his  whole  foreign  policy.  He 
said :  "  While  we  have  seen  the  political  earthquake 
rocking  Europe  from  side  to  side;  while  we  have  seen 
th'ones  shaken,  shattered,  levelled ;  institutions  over- 
thrown and  destroyed;  while  in  almost  every  country 
of  Europe  the  conflict  of  civil  war  has  deluged  the  land 
with  blood,  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Black  Sea,  from  tlie 
Baltic  to  the  Mediterranean,  this  country  has  presented 
a  spectacle  honorable  to  the  people  of  England,  and 
worthy  of  the  admiration  of  mankiiul.  We  have  shown 
that  liberty  is  compatible  with  order;  that  individual 
freedom  is  reconcilable  with  obedience  to  the  law." 

When  Lord  Palmerston  sat  down,  the  House  greeted 
him  with  prolonged  cheers.  The  nation  rejoiced,  and 
heartily  agreed  with  Peel  when  he  declared,  "  It  has 
made  us  all  proud  of  him." 

Soon  after  this  remarkable  speech,  one  hundred  and 
twenty  members  of  the  House  of  Commons  presented  to 
Lady  Palmerston  a  portrait  of  her  husband,  with  a 
written  address  expressive  of  "their  high  sense  of  his 
public  and  private  character,  and  of  the  iiulependent 
policy  by  which  he  maintained  the  honor  and  interests 
of  his  country." 

Sir  George  Lewis  said  that  by  this  speech,  "  he 
defeated  the  whole  Conservative  i)arty,  Protectionists 
and  Peelites,  supported  by  the  extreme  Radicals,  and 
backed  by  the  'fiines  and  all  the  organized  forces  of 
foreign  diplomacy." 

On  December  2,  1851,  the  famous  coup  d'etat  of  the 
President  of  the  French  Republic  took  place.  The 
Queen  wished  England  to  be  neutral  with  respect  to  the 
event,  Init  Palmerston,  believing  tliat  the  Orleans  princes 
were  about  to  attempt  to  regain  the  throne,  had  told  the 


i 
I: 


i 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


103 


French  ambassador,  Count  Walensky,  that  he  a})provecl 
of  Napoleon's  conduct.  These  views  were  re})eated  in 
Paris,  showing  at  once  that  the  Queen  and  the  Foreign 
Secretary  did  not  think  alike.  The  Queen  had  already 
censured  Palmerston  for  acting  on  his  own  judgment  too 
frequently,  and  the  result  was  that  he  was  dismissed 
from  office  by  the  Premier,  Lord  John  ll-.sssell. 

"  Palmerston  evidently  thought  he  had  been  ill- 
treated,"  says  P>ulwer,  "but  I  never  heard  him  make  an 
unfair  or  irritable  remark,  nor  did  he  seem  in  anv  wise 
stunned  by  the  blow  he  had  received,  or  dismayed  by 
the  isolated  position  in  which  he  stood." 

"  P)Oth  in  private  and  in  public  life,"  says  Shaftesbury, 
"Palmerston  was  of  a  very  placable  spirit.  ...  Of 
public  resentments  he  had  no  memory  at  all.  .  .  .  On 
one  occasion  lie  liad  decided  to  name  a  certain  clergy- 
man to  a  vacant  bishopric.  A  day  or  two  afterwards  he 
wrote  to  mo  to  say  that  since  he  liad  made  up  his  mind 

for  Dr. ,  he  had  received  a  letter  from  Lord  Russell, 

with  a  request  that  a  friend  of  his  might  be  appointed 
to  the  see.  *If,'  he  continued,  '  Kussell's  man  be  a  good 
and  proper  man,  I  should  wish  to  appoint  him,  because 
you  know  Russell  once  treated  me  in  a  very  rough  wa}^, 
and  I  desire  to  show  him  that  I  have  quite  forgotten 
it.'  "  A  good  lesson  to  many  bc/th  in  and  out  of  politics, 
who  take  revenge  whenever  opportunity  offers. 

Palmerston  was  glad  of  a  Tittle  leisure  "  after  five  years 
and  a  half  of  galley-slave  labor,"  as  he  said.  Tlie  Russell 
ministry  was  soon  defeated,  and  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
same  year,  ISo^,  Palmerston  became  Home  Secretary 
under  Lord  Aberdeen  as  Premier.  He  chose  this  depart- 
ment, as  lie  wrote  his  brother  William  :  "  It  does  not  do 
for  a  man  to  pass  his  whole  life  in  one  department,  and 


j'l 


'  ! 


J     '11 


V'l-    s^ 


I     : 


i 


8 


^ 


104 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


. 


I    I 


the  Home  Office  deals  with  the  concerns  of  the  country 
internally,  and  brings  one  in  contact  with  one's  fellow- 
countrymen,  besides  which,  it  gives  one  more  influence 
in    re^^ard   to   the    militia,    and    the    defences    of    the 

country." 

Palmerston  filled  his  position  with  the  greatest  care 
and  faithfulness.  He  visited  prisons  and  looked  after 
the  ventilation  of  the  cells  ;  he  interested  himself  in  the 
Factory  Acts  for  children.  Shaftesbury  said  :  "  I  never 
knew  any  Home  Secretary  equal  to  Talmerston  for  readi- 
ness to  undertake  every  good  work  of  kindness,  humanity, 
and  social  good,  especially  to  the  child  and  the  working- 
class.  No  fear  of  w^ealth,  capital,  or  election  terrors; 
prepared  at  all  times  to  run  a  tilt  if  he  could  do  good 
by  it.  Has  already  done  more  good  than  ten  of  his 
predecessors." 

He  paul  attention  to  the  health  of  London  by  abat- 
ing the  smoke  nuisance,  somewhat;  and  by  closing 
graveyards  within  the  metropolitan  area.  He  said : 
"  England  is,  I  believe,  the  only  country  in  which,  in 
these  days,  peojde  accumulate  putrefying  dead  bodies 
amid  the  dwellings  of  the  living ;  and  as  to  burying 
bodies  under  thronged  churches,  you  might  as  well  jiut 
them  under  libraries,  drawing-rooms,  and  dining-rooms." 

Meantime  trouble  was  arising  over  the  unending 
Eastern  question,  A  dispute  had  begun  between  the 
Roman  Catholics  in  Turkey  and  the  Greek  Christians, 
over  the  "  Holy  IMaces."  France  protected  the  holy 
places  in  Palestine,  —  the  tomb  of  the  Virgin,  the 
Church  in  Bethlehem,  and  the  like,  —  while  Russia  ]U'o- 
tected  the  Greek  Church,  liitter  feeling  was  engendered 
between  France  and  Russia. 

Palmerston   tried   to   persuade    France,   through    the 


I 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


105 


.,  in 


tl 


le 


Mie 


English  minister,  to  modify  lier  demands  about  the 
Latin  or  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  Turkey.  This  dis- 
pute finally  seoiied  settled,  but  Turkey  refused  to  allow 
Russia  to  "protect"  all  the  millions  of  Greeks  in  her 
country.  Emperor  Nicholas  at  once  sent  two  divisions 
of  his  army  across  the  Pruth,  and  took  possession  of  the 
Danubian  principalities.  Whether  Russia  had  a  right 
to  the  protectorate  or  not,  England  would  not  see  Turkey 
humiliated  by  Russia,  because,  in  the  end,  it  would  mean 
more  power  for  an  already  powerful  nation. 

On  October  5, 1853,  Turkey  demanded  that  the  Emperor 
leave  the  principalities  within  fifteen  days.  On  October 
14,  at  the  request  of  the  Sultan,  the  English  and  French 
fleets  passed  up  to  Constantino})le.  There  was,  at  first, 
much  opposition  m  England  to  war.  Lord  Aberdeen 
hesitated,  and  hoped  that  at  the  last  war  might  be 
averted. 

Palmerston  said,  with  his  usual  daring :  "  I  am  desir- 
ous that  England  should  be  well  with  Russia  as  long  as 
the  Emperor  allows  us  to  be  so  ;  but  if  he  is  determined 
to  break  a  lance  with  us,  why,  then  have  at  him,  say  I, 
and  perhaps  he  may  have  enough  of  it  before  we  have 
done  with  him.  .  .  . 

"  We  passed  the  Rubicon  when  we  first  took  part  \vith 
Turkey  and  sent  our  squadrons  to  sui)port  her ;  and 
when  England  and  France  have  once  taken  a  third 
})ower  by  the  hand,  that  third  power  7)ii(sf  be  carried  in 
safety  through  the  difficulties  in  which  it  may  be 
involved." 

The  Turks  and  Russians  were  already  in  conflict.  On 
November  30,  1853,  the  Turkish  squadron,  consisting  of 
seven  frigates,  a  sloop,  and  a  steamer,  were  lying  at 
Sinope,  on  the  southern  shore  of  the   Black  Sea.     The 


tiii; 


f  •; 


!,  1- 


iiil 


S.!tl 


.  i- 


m 


100 


LOUD  PALMEIiSTON. 


Kussian  fleet,  greatly  outnumbering  the  Turks,  bore 
down  upon  them,  and  a  terrible  tight  ensued.  The  whole 
Turkish  squadron,  except  the  steamer,  was  destroyed, 
over  four  thousand  Turks  were  killed,  and  of  the  remain- 
ing four  hundred,  it  was  declared  that  every  man  was 
wounded. 

England  was  thrown  into  a  frenzy  by  this  "  massacre  of 
Sinopo."  The  French  emperor  sent  a  letter  to  Nicholas 
suggesting  a  scheme  for  peace,  or  the  Western  Powers 
must  declare  war.  The  haughty  Tsar  replied  :  "  Russia 
will  })rove  herself  in  1854  what  she  was  in  1812."  Then 
she  burned  ^Moscow  to  prevent  the  French  '^.'om  succeed- 
ing.    The  results  were  different  in  1854. 

Very  soon  France  and  England  demanded  the  evacu- 
ation of  the  principalities.  No  answer  was  returned, 
and  the  allied  troops  were  immediately  despatched  to 
the  East;  Lord  llaglan,  who  had  lost  his  right  arm  under 
Wellington  at  Waterloo,  commanding  the  English  forces, 
and  iNIarshal  St.  Arnaud,  the  French. 

The  troops  landed  at  Varna.  Austria  now  demand- 
ed— she  had  fifty  thousand  troops — that  the  Tsar  should 
withdraw  from  the  principalities.  After  he  had  done 
so,  it  was  decided  to  carry  the  war  into  the  heart  of 
Russia,  that  is,  where  she  would  be  soonest  crippled. 

This  was  believed  to  be  the  Crimea,  with  its  great 
harbor,  docks,  and  fortifications.  September  7,  the 
Allies,  with  their  war-ships  and  their  transports,  were 
ready  to  sail  from  Varna  for  the  Crimea.  Cholera  had 
broken  out  in  the  French  ships  on  their  way  from  Mar- 
seilles, and  it  soon  destroyed  or  disabled,  in  three  French 
divisions,  ten  thousand  men.  Some  ships  were  reduced 
almost  to  helplessness. 

General   Sir  Edward    liamley    in   his  "  War  in   the 


LORD  PALMEIiSTON. 


107 


Crimea,"  thus  describes  the  gliastly  journey :  "  The 
troops  moved  down  slowly  from  their  camps  ;  the  jjoison 
in  the  air  caused  a  general  sickliness,  and  the  men  ^vere 
so  enfeebled  that  their  knapsacks  were  borne  for  them 
on  packhorses.  ,  .  ,  The  mysterious  scourge  still  pur- 
sued them  on  board  ship,  and  added  a  horrible  feature 
to  the  period  of  detention,  for  the  corpses,  sunk  with 
shot  at  their  feet,  after  a  time  rose  to  the  surface,  and 
floated  upright,  breast  high,  among  the  ships,  the 
swollen  features  pressing  out  the  blankets  or  hammocks 
wdiich  enwrapped  them." 

Through  these  dead  comrades,  the  living  sailed  away, 
to  die  in  trenches,  or  freeze  and  starve  in  the  Crimea. 

September  18,  the  British  infantry,  twenty-six  thou- 
sand men,  and  the  Light  Brigade  of  cavalry,  the  French 
infantry,  twenty -eight  thousand  men,  and  seven  thou- 
sand Turks,  landed  in  Kalamita  Bay,  and  began  their 
march  south  toward  Sevastopol. 

Two  days  later  a  battle  w^as  fought  on  the  banks  of 
the  Alma  River,  the  Russian  forces,  about  thirty-seven 
thousand  men,  on  the  south  of  it,  nearer  to  Sevastopol. 
Both  sides  fought  bravely,  the  Allies  winning  the  battle. 
The  Allies  lost  over  three  thousand  men  in  killed  and 
Wounded.     The  Russians  stated  their  losses  as  5,709. 

The  Russians  were  not  pursued,  as  Lord  Raglan 
wished,  because  IMarshal  St.  Arnaud  said  his  men  had 
divested  themselves  of  their  knapsacks  before  scaling 
the  heights,  and  must  return  for  them  before  advancing. 
The  Light  Brigade  was  not  engaged  in  the  battle.  "I 
will  keep  my  cavalry  in  a  bandbox,"  Lord  Raglan 
remarked,  of  the  thousand  whom  he  so  highly  prized. 
Their  sad  fate  afterwards  is  a  matter  of  history. 

For   the   two   days   following,  the  Allies  buried  the 


If 


I   I 
I- 

Mi ' ' 


I        'I 


m 


LL'5_'»W«t1|plJ^»*'*   ■ 


108 


lOttt)  PALMEliSTON. 


dead  of  both  armio.s,  and  established  hospitals  in  some 
empty  houses.  The  cholera  went  on  with  its  deadly 
work.  Kinglake  says  that  when  the  Tsar  heard  of  the 
defeat  at  Alma,  a  burst  of  rage  was  followed  by  days  of 
dejection,  when  he  lay  on  his  bed  silent  and  without 
food. 

As  soon  as  the  result  of  the  battle  of  Alma  was 
known  at  Sevastopol,  seven  shijis  of  war  were  sunk  by 
the  Russians,  across  the  entrance  of  the  harbor,  in  line 
with  the  forts.  It  was  then  necessarily  decided  by  the 
Allies  to  make  a  flank  movement  on  Sevastopol,  by  way 
of  Ualaklava.  The  Allies  having  occupied  the  heights 
above  Ualaklava,  the  liussians  attacked  them  October  25. 
The  attack  was  bold  and  brilliant ;  the  repulse  brilliant 
and  successful.  During  the  engagement  Lord  Kaglan 
sent  a  written  order  to  Lord  Lucan  at  the  head  of  the 
Light  Brigade :  "  Lord  Raglan  wishes  the  cavalry  to 
advance  rapidly  to  the  front,  and  try  to  prevent  the 
enemy  carrying  away  the  guns." 

This  order  was  carried  by  the  Quartermaster-General's 
aide-de-camp,  Captain  Nolan.  Lucan  read  the  order 
"with  much  consideration  —  perhaps  consternation  would 
be  the  better  word  — at  once  seeing  its  impracticability 
for  any  useful  purpose  whatever,  and  the  consequent 
great  unnecessary  risk  and  loss  to  be  incurred." 

The  enemy  were  on  several  fronts.  Lucan  objected. 
Nolan  said :  "•  Lord  Raglan's  orders  are  that  the  cavalry 
should  attack  immediately." 

"Attack,  sir!  Attack  what?  AVhat  guns?"  said 
Lord  Lucan. 

The  reply  of  Nolan  was :  "  There,  my  lord,  is  your 
enemy;  there  are  your  guns,"  as  he  pointed  down  the 
valley.     It  was  all  too  clear  that  "  some  one  had  blun- 


LORD  PALMEIiSrON. 


109 


dered,"  when   they  rode    into   the  valley  of   death,  as 
Tennyson  writes  in  his  thrilling  poem. 

The  order  was  jiven  to  advance.  "  The  lines,"  says 
Hamley,  "  continued  to  advance  at  a  steady  trot,  and  in 
a  minute  or  two  entered  the  zone  of  fire,  where  the  air 
was  filled  with  the  rush  of  shot,  the  bursting  of  shells, 
and  the  moan  of  bullets,  while  amidst  the  infernal  din 
the  work  of  destruction  went  on,  and  men  and  horses 
were  incessantly  dashed  to  the  ground.  ... 

"  A  deadlier  fire  awaited  them  from  the  twelve  guns  in 
front,  which  could  scarcely  fail  to  strike  somewhere  on  a 
line  a  hundred  yards  wide.  It  was  when  the  brigade  had 
been  advancing  for  about  five  minutes  that  it  came  within 
range  of  this  battery,  and  the  effect  was  manifest  at 
once  in  the  increased  number  of  men  and  horses  that 
strewed  the  plain.  With  the  natural  wish  to  sb.orten 
this  ordeal,  the  pace  was  increased ;  when  the  brigade 
neared  the  battery,  more  than  half  its  numbers  were  on 
the  grass  of  the  valley,  dead  or  struggling  to  their  feet ; 
but,  still  unwavering,  not  a  man  failing  wlio  was  not  yet 
disabled,  the  remnant  rode  straight  into  the  smoke  of 
tiie  guns,  and  was  lost  to  view."  Out  of  six  hundred 
and  seven  men,  only  one  hundred  and  ninety-eight  came 
back  from  that  futile  and  fearless  charge.  Captain 
Nolan  was  killed  at  the  first  fire. 

On  November  5,  ten  days  after  Balaklava,  the  battle 
of  Inkerman  was  fought,  the  fiercest  battle  of  the  war. 
"  ]\ren  lay  in  swaths,  as  if  mown  down,  insomuch  that 
it  was  impossible  to  ride  through  the  lines  and  mounds 
'^f  the  slain."  The  Russians  lost  twelve  thousand  men; 
the  Allies,  something  less  than  half  that  number. 

Winter  was  close  at  hand,  and  Sevastopol  had  not 
fallen,  though  severely  attacked.     November  14  a  great 


! 


ml 
mi 


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I  -I' 


11' If 


I  -,1 


..11  ..I 


■A'  » 


110 


LOUD  PALMEUSTON. 


Storm  in  the  Crimea  carried  away  hospital  tents,  dashed 
to  pieces  twenty-one  vessels  in  or  near  the  harbor  of 
Balaklava,  and  disabled  eight  others,  all  full  of  stores 
for  tlie  army ;  clothing,  food,  surgical  instruments,  and 
ammunition. 

"At  the  close  of  the  storm,"  writes  Hamley,  "the 
evening  had  brought  snow,  and  henceforth  the  soil  of 
the  devastated  camps  afforded  in  no  respect  better  lodg- 
ing than  the  rest  of  the  surrounding  wold.  The  sick, 
the  wounded,  and  the  weary,  lay  down  in  the  mud.  The 
trendies  were  often  deep  in  water,  and  when  night  put 
an  end  to  the  rifle  fire  on  both  sides,  the  soldiers  sat 
there,  cramped,  with  their  backs  against  the  cold  wet 
earth. 

"A  still  wo'.se  evil  was  that  men  seldom  pulled  off 
their  wet  boots,  fearing  they  might  not  be  able  to  draw 
them  on  again ;  their  feet  swelled  in  them,  the  circula- 
tion was  impeded,  and  on  cold  nights  frost-bite  ensued, 
ending  at  best  in  mutilation."  They  had  no  fuel,  and 
ate  their  salt  pork  uncooked.  Fuel  and  food  were  at 
Balaklava,  seven  or  eight  miles  away  from  the  camps, 
but  tliere  was  almost  no  means  of  transport.  "  In  rear 
of  each  division,  a  scanty  group  of  miserable  ponies  and 
mules,  whose  backs  never  knew  what  it  was  to  be  quit 
of  the  saddle,  shivered,  and  starved,  and  daily  died.  .  .  . 
The  sufferings  of  the  animals  were  frightful.  They  were 
dying  all  round  the  camps,  and  all  along  the  route  to 
Balaklava,  of  cold,  hunger,  and  fatigue,  and  as  labor 
could  not  be  bestowed  in  burying  them,  their  carcasses 
formed  a  dismal  feature  in  the  desolate  scenery.  .  .  . 
Before  the  end  of  November  the  neighboring  artillery 
camps  were  invaded  by  ravenous  cavalry  horses,  gallop- 
ing madly  in  at  the  sound  of  the  feeding-trumpet,  and 


( 


LOUD  PALMEIiSTON. 


Ill 


i 


( 


snatching,  undeterred  by  stick  or  stones,  the  hay  and 
barley  from  the  very  muzzles  of  the  right  owners.  Tain- 
ful  it  was  to  see  the  frenzy  of  the  creatures  in  their  tirst 
pangs  of  hunger,  more  painful  to  see  their  quiet  misery 
in  the  exhaustion  that  succeeded.  .  .  .  The  labor  of  toil- 
ing tiirough  the  slough  to  Balaklava  to  fetch  their  own 
forage  was  so  great  that  many  horses  sank  and  died  in 
each  journey." 

At  the  end  of  November  there  were  eight  thousand 
men  in  the  hospital  at  Scutari.  "Tlie  journey  thither 
was  an  ordeal  fatal  to  many.  Lifted  from  the  mud  of 
the  hospital  tent,  and  wrapi)ed  in  their  wet  blankets,  the 
sick  were  placed  on  horses,  a  dismal  troop ;  some  with 
closed  eves  and  livid  cheeks,  little  other  than  mounted 
corpses ;  some  moaning  as  they  went,  and  almost  ready 
in  tlieir  weariness  to  relax  their  hold  of  the  pommel,  and 
bury  their  troubles  in  the  mire  beneath.  .  .  .  l)Ound  for 
the  great  hospital  of  Scutari,  the  ghastly  train  would 
toil  on,  wading  and  slipping  past  the  dying  horses,  tlie 
half-buried  bullocks,  the  skeletons,  and  carcasses  in  vari- 
ous stages  of  decay." 

At  Scutari  they  were  dying  like  sheep.  "  But  the  sick 
flocked  in  faster  than  the  dead  were  carried  out,  and 
still  the  dismal  stream  augmented  till  the  hospitals  over- 
flowed, while  still  faster  poured  the  misery -laden  ships 
down  the  Black  Sea,  feeding  as  they  went  the  flshes  with 
their  dead." 

In  January  and  February  nearly  fourteen  thousand 
men  were  in  the  hospitals.  All  these  things  were 
told  at  home,  and  England  was  convulsed  with  anger 
and  grief.  Lord  Aberdeen's  ministry  was  charged 
with  great  mismanagement  of  the  war.  Somebody  had 
mismanaged  ;  that  was  evident  to  the  whole  world.     Lord 


iili 


U: 


U\ 


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( ,    .  '/I 


ill  i 


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t  'I 


:p.  (  1 


i 


112 


LORD  PALMEliSTON. 


Jolm  Russell,  who  had  turned  the  War  Minister,  Palmer- 
ston,  out,  now  wrot»'  to  the  Trimo  IMinister  urging  the 
"  necessity  of  having  in  the  War  De})artment  a  man,  who, 
from  experience  of  military  details,  from  inherent  vigor 
of  mind,  and  from  weight  with  the  House  of  Commons, 
can  be  expected  to  guide  the  great  operations  of  war 
with  autliority  and  success.  There  is  only  one  i)erson 
belonging  to  the  government  who  combines  these  advav;- 
tages."  And  that  was  I'almerston.  The  nation  knew 
it.  The  Aberdeen  ministry  fell,  and  Lord  ralmerston 
at  seventy -one  became  the  Prime  Minister  of  England. 

He  wrote  his  brother  William  :  "  A  month  ago,  if  any 
man  had  asked  me  to  say  what  was  one  of  the  most 
imi)robable  events,  I  should  have  said  my  being  Prime 
Minister.  Aberdeen  was  there,  Derby  was  head  of  one 
great  party,  John  llusscU  of  the  other,  and  yet  in  about 
ten  days'  time  they  all  gave  way  like  straws  before  the 
wind,  and  so  here  am  I,  writing  to  you  from  Downing 
Street,  as  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury.  .  .  .  It  is  curious 
that  the  same  man  who  summarily  dismissed  me  three 
years  ago,  as  unfit  to  be  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs, 
should  now  have  broken  up  a  government  becanse  I  was 
not  placed  in  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  most  important 
post  in  the  present  state  of  things.  ...  I  am  backed  by 
the  general  oi)inion  of  the  whole  country." 

England  was  satisfied.  She  knew  she  had  a  strong 
man  at  the  head,  one  who  did  not  get  excited ;  whose 
judgment  was  remarkable ;  who  had  tact  and  cheer  and 
courage  ;  who  knew  how  to  control  others  because  lie 
controlled  himself.  "This  calmness  of  spirit,"  says 
Shaftesbury,  "  M-as  a  grand  ingredient  of  his  mental  and 
moral  composition.  It  enabled  him  to  endure  much 
labor  and  face  many  responsibilities.  .  .  .  His  nervous 


■i^ 


LORD  PALMEIiSTON. 


113 


V)y 


lie 


system  was  singularly  well  balanced  ;  his  digestive  organs 
never  seemed  at  fault ;  and  at  whatsoever  hour  he  retired 
to  bed,  he  could  fall  asleep  at  once,  and  take,  what  ho 
invariably  insisted  on,  eight  hours  of  repose." 

"  He  had  a  wonderful  faculty,"  says  Ashley,  "  of  dis- 
missing from  his  mind  any  matter,  however  anxious, 
when,  for  the  time,  it  was  disposed  of;  and  his  disposi- 
tion allowed  him  to  feel  perfect  confidence  in  his  subor- 
dinates as  long  as  they  had  done  nothing  to  forfeit  it. 
These  two  qualities  were  mighty  aids  to  him  in  his  work, 
as  they  not  only  assisted  his  power  of  concentration, 
which  was  already  naturally  strong,  but  freed  him  from 
that  perpetual  head-worry  which  has  worn  out  so  many 
busy  men." 

Lord  Brougham  said :  "  I  never  knew  a  man  whom  it 
was  more  agreeable  to  act  with." 

England  at  once  sent  quantities  of  stores  of  all  kinds 
to  the  suffering  soldiers  in  the  Crimea.  Florence  Night- 
ingale, thanks  to  Mr.  Sidney  Herbert,  Secretary  at  War, 
had  been  induced  to  go  with  her  band  of  thirty-eight 
nurses  to  the  hospitals  in  Scutari.  The  daughter  of  a 
rich  country  gentleman,  she  had  devoted  her  leisure  to 
sanitary  questions,  having  studied  in  Continental  institu- 
tions, especially  in  Pastor  Fliedner's  great  Lutheran 
hospital  at  Kaiserwerth. 

The  work  done  by  Miss  Nightingale  was  marvellous. 
Calm  and  unobtrusive,  she  soon  won  the  respect  and 
reverence  of  officers  and  privates.  She  was  well  called 
the  "Angel  of  the  Crimea."  She  restored  order,  ar- 
ranged for  the  proper  cooking  of  food,  reduced  the  death- 
rate  by  her  wonderful  management  and  skill,  and 
became,  as  she  deserved,  the  idol  of  t^ie  English  nation, 
and  an  example  to  the  women  of  all  nations. 


€ 


i 


!'     1 


II 


iM 


i 
i 


if,?  1 


M  ' 


114 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


Paluierston  at  once  sent  out  a  sanitary  commission  to 
the  Crimea,  and  a  superintendent  of  the  commissariat, 
established  a  board  to  superintend  the  transport  service, 
paid  little  attention  tt  the  disaffected  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  by  his  energy,  vigor,  and  strength,  put 
new  life  into  the  campaign. 

The  great  Cavour,  perhaps  remembering  Palmerston's 
love  for  Italy,  and  probably  wishing  the  aid  of  England 
in  the  future,  had  sent  an  army  from  Sardinia  to  liel]) 
the  Allies.  It  is  said  that  his  niece  suggested  the  phm, 
and  it  proved  important  for  Italy.  The  war  went  on. 
The  dreadful  winter  with  its  sickness  and  death  had 
passed.  The  Allies,  even  in  their  bitterest  trials,  had 
not  been  idle  in  the  siege.  Their  lines  had  been  drawn 
nearer  and  nearer  to  Sevastopol. 

On  ]\Iarch  2,  iS55,  Emperor  Nicholas  died  suddenly,  of 
paralysis  of  the  lungs,  —  it  was  said,  and  probably  Avith 
truth,  of  a  broken  heart.  Up  to  the  time  of  his  death, 
the  Russians  had  lost  (so  said  Lord  Lansdowne,  obtain- 
ing it  from  authentic  sources)  240,000  men. 

The  great  general  on  the  Russian  side,  Todleben,  had 
been  seriously  wounded;  Field-Marshal  Lord  Raglan 
died  June  28.  The  fearless  and  stubborn  leader  of  the 
French,  after  Sc.  Arnaud  died,  Relissier,  "stood  by  the 
bedside  for  over  an  hour,  crying  like  n,  child." 

Among  tlie  most  important  works  to  be  stornu^d  in  front 
of  Sevastopol  were  the  .Malakoff,  the  Redan,  and  the  ]\Tame- 
lon.  The  iMalakoff  was  a  tower,  semi-circular,  five  feet 
thick,  fifty  feet  in  diameter,  and  twenty-eight  feet  high, 
with  five  guns  on  the  top.  On  the  :Mamelon  Hill  and 
the  Redan  were  powerful  batteries.  These  were  aq'ain 
and  again  the  scene  of  bloodiest  conflict.  So  numerous 
and  so  violent  were  the  assaults,  that  in  the  six  months 


, 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


115 


between  the  death  of  the  Emperor  in  March,  to  August 
inclusive,  81,000  men  had  been  killed  in  and  around  Sevas- 
toi)ol.  There  was  a  cemetery  ^.n  the  north,  well  called 
"  The  Grave  of  the  Hundred  Thousand." 

There  was  no  lack  of  bravery  and  heroism  among  the 
Allies  or  the  Kussians.  On  June  7,  1855,  the  quarries 
in  front  of  the  Redan  were  taken  by  the  English,  and  the 
jNIamelon  by  the  French.  June  18  a  desperate  but  unsuc- 
cessful assault  was  made  on  the  Malakoff  and  the  Redan. 
At  the  burial  truce,  a  young  Russian  officer  said  to  one 
of  the  Allies'  staff,  with  voice  choked  with  emotion : 
"Losses!  you  don't  know  what  the  word  means;  you 
should  see  our  batteries  ;  the  dead  lie  there  in  heaps  and 
heaps." 

September  8,  a  simultaneous  attack  was  made  upon 
the  Malakoff  and  the  Redan.  The  French  took  the 
former.  The  English  stormed  the  parapets  of  the 
Redan,  but  were  not  able  to  hold  the  place,  and  it  was 
decided  to  postpone  the  attack  till  the  next  day.  Dur- 
ing the  night  the  Russians  abandoned  the  city  and 
burned  it,  like  ^Moscow,  also  two  line-of-battle  ships  in 
the  harbor,  where  most  of  the  rest  were  at  the  same  time 
sunk. 

The  siege  of  a  year  in  length  was  over.  The  final 
sacritice  was  a  costly  one.  The  French  lost  7,507  men, 
the  English  2,271,  and  the  Russians  12,913.  On  Sep- 
tember 10  the  Russian  ship  Vladimir  came  under  flag 
of  truce  to  ask  for  the  wounded  in  the  hospital.  Two 
thousand  desperately  wounded  men  had  lain  there  in 
their  blood  for  two  days  and  twjo  nights  without  aid  or 
nourishment,  surrounded  by  the  exploding  forts  and  the 
burning  bnihlings.  Five  liundred  were  still  alive,  and 
were  conveyed  to  their  ship.     Thus  horrible  is  war ! 


'  11 


ill' 


I , 


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ii  i 


116 


LOIiD  PALMERSTON. 


ATTStria  now  interoeded  for  peace,  and  the  Treaty  of 
Paris  was  signed  ]\[arch  SO,  1850,  by  wliich  Sevastoi^ol 
and  other  phices  taken  by  the  Allies  were  returned  to 
Russia,  and  it  was  guaranteed  that  the  Black  Sea  should 
be  open  to  the  mercantile  marine  of  every  nation,  but 
closed  to  ships  of  Avar.  The  last  condition  of  the  treaty 
was  abrogated  by  l*rince  Gortschakoff  in  1870.  The 
Queen  offered  Lord  Palmerston  the  Garter  in  recognition 
of  his  services  in  carrying  forward  the  war,  and  the 
country  heartily  indorsed  the  honor. 

Through  the  dreadful  mutiny  in  India,  1857,  Palmer- 
ston acted  with  energy  and  foresight,  putting  the  right 
men  in  the  right  place,  refusing  all  offers  of  aid  from 
Prussia  and  Belgium,  appreciating  the  soldiers  who 
fought  so  heroically,  saying,  "  There  never  was  an 
instance  in  the  history  of  the  world  of  such  splendid 
.samples  of  bravery,  of  intrepidity,  of  resource,  and 
self-reliance  accomplishing  such  results  as  those  which 
we  have  lately  Avitnessed." 

Of  the  noble  women  who  suffered  in  India  at  that 
time,  he  said,  "  Henceforth  the  bravest  soldier  may 
think  it  no  disparagement  to  be  told  that  his  courage 
and  his  power  of  endurance  are  ec[ual  to  those  of  an 
Englishwoman." 

The  story  of  the  treachery  and  cruelty  of  Xana  Sahib, 
told  in  Colonel  G.  B.  Malleson's  "Indian  Mutiny," 
where  the  garrison  at  Cawnpore  were  allowed  to  depart 
for  Allahabad,  and  as  soon  as  they  were  in  the  thatch- 
covered  boats,  the  boats  were  set  fire  to,  and  the  occui)ants 
burned  or  shot,  save  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  women 
and  children  who  were  imprisoned ;  the  arrival  of  the 
noble  General  Havelock  at  tlie  gates  of  Cawn])ore,  who 
said  to  his  soldiers,  "With  God's  help,  men,  we  shall 


1 


LOUD  PALMEllSTOX. 


117 


save  tlioin,  or  every  man  of  us  die  in  the  attempt ; " 
the  massacre  by  the  sword  of  these  two  hundred  and  fifty 
women  and  chiklren,  and  their  bodies  thrown  one  upon 
anotlior  into  a  deep  well,  some  still  alive,  until  death  came 
in  kindness  to  end  the  horror,  —  this  story  has  been  often 
told,  and  can  never  be  forgotten.  When  Plavelock's  men 
entered  this  wretched  prison,  and  found  the  walls  cov- 
ered with  the  blood  of  the  wives  of  English  army  offi- 
cers, and  the  floor  strewn  with  bits  of  clothes  and 
tresses  of  liair  of  women  and  children,  fury  was 
mingled  with  their  sadness,  and  though  Nana  Sahib 
escaped  and  was  never  heard  of,  India  paid  dearly  for 
her  brutality. 

The  well  was  filled  up,  and  a  memorial  chapel  sur- 
rounded by  a  garden  is  now  on  the  spot  of  the  massacre. 

In  the  autumn  of  1858  Palmerston  visited  the  Em- 
peror of  the  French,  and  joined  with  horse  and  gun  in 
the  sports  of  the  French  Court.  He  wrote  his  brother-in- 
law  :  "The  visits  of  the  English  to  the  Emperor  serve 
as  links  to  maintain  and  strengthen  English  alliance." 

For  a  few  months  Falmerston  was  out  of  office,  but 
soon  returned.  At  his  request  nine  millions  were  spent 
in  fortifying  the  dockyards  and  arsenals,  especially  in 
the  forts  and  lines  around  l^ortsmouth,  I'lymouth, 
(Jhatham,  and  Cork,  though  this  measure  was  strongly 
opposed  by  Mv.  Gladstone,  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer, 
by  Ki(diard  Cobden,  and  others. 

He  replied  to  INIr.  Cobden  :  "  It  would  be  very  de- 
lightful if  your  Utoi)ia  could  be  realized,  and  if  the 
nations  of  the  earth  would  think  of  nothing  but  peace 
and  commerce,  and  would  give  up  quarrelling  and  fight- 
ing altogether.  .  .  .  ])Ut  so  long  as  other  nations  are  ani- 
mated by  these  human  passions,  a  country  like  England, 


Ih 


v 


■  »i 


?f  ', 


l^^s- 


■(l 


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li 


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EH 


-4 


U8 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


wealthy  and  exposed  to  attack,  must,  by  necessity,  be 
provided  with  tlie  means  of  defence,  and  however  dear 
these  means  may  be,  they  are  infinitely  cheaper  than  the 
war  which  they  tend  to  keep  off." 

"If  your  dockyards  are  destroyed,"  he  said,  "your 
navy  is  cut  up  by  the  roots.  ...  If  ever  we  lose  the 
command  of  the  sea,  wliat  becomes  of  this  country  ? 
.  .  .  Our  wealth  depends  on  the  exportation  of  the 
products,  of  our  industry,  which  we  exchange  for  those 
things  which  are  necessary  for  our  social  position." 

In  1861  the  Queen  appointed  Palmerston  to  the 
ancient  and  dignified  office  of  Lord  Warden  of  the 
Cinque  Ports,  on  the  death  of  Lord  Dalhousie. 

The  Civil  War  in  America  began  this  year.  For  the 
American  people,  Ashley  says  Palmerston  had  "admira- 
tion and  regard,"  though  he  thought  some  of  her  men  in 
political  life  "deficient  in  honesty  and  offensive  in 
tone." 

When  Napoleon  III.  more  than  ever  urged  England  to 
recognize  the  Southern  States,  he  was  always  met  with 
refusal.  When  it  was  urged  that  England  should 
attempt  to  mediate,  Palmerston  judged  rightly  that  such 
mediation  "might  be  resented  on  both  sides;  and  that 
jealousy  of  European,  especially  of  English  interference, 
in  their  internal  affairs,  might  make  them  still  more 
prone  to  reject  our  offer  as  impertinent.  .  .  .  We  could 
not  well  mix  ourselves  up  with  the  acknowledgment  of 
slavery,  and  the  principle  that  a  slave  escaping  to  a  free- 
soil  State  should  be  followed,  claimed,  and  recovered, 
like  a  horse  or  an  ox." 

When  the  French  minister  at  Washington  suggested 
that  England  and  France  "compel  the  Northern  States 
to  let  the   cotton   come   to   Europe  from   the  South," 


I 


% 


I 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


110 


because  tiiere  was  dire  distress  among  the  operatives  in 
the  cotton-factories,  Palmerston  replied  tliat  "tliis 
would  almost  be  tantamount  to  a  war  with  the  ]S"orth,"' 
and  suggested  to  the  Board  of  Trade  that  cotton  could 
be  obtained  from  Africa,  India,  Australia,  the  Fiji 
Islands,  Syria,  Egypt,  and  China. 

He  said  constantly,  "  Our  best  and  true  policy  seems 
to  be  to  go  on  as  we  have  begun,  and  to  keep  quite  clear 
of  the  .conflict  between  North  and  South." 

In  1861  the  Confederates,  Messrs.  Slidell  and  IMason, 
started  for  Europe,  sent  by  Jefferson  Davis  to  represent 
the  South  at  Paris  and  London.  On  their  way  to  South- 
ampton, England,  in  the  English  mail-steamer  Trent, 
they  were  overtaken  by  the  United  States  war-steamer 
San  Jacinto,  Captain  Wilkes  commanding,  seized,  and 
carried  prisoners  to  Boston. 

President  Lincoln  at  once  declared  that  the  act  of 
Captain  Wilkes  could  not  be  sustained.  He  said,  "  This 
is  the  very  thing  the  British  captains  used  to  do.  They 
claimed  the  right  of  searching  American  ships  and 
carrying  men  out  of  them.  That  was  the  cause  of  the 
war  of  1812.  Now,  we  cannot  abandon  our  principles. 
We  shall  liave  to  give  these  men  up,  and  apologize  for 
what  we  have  done." 

Palmerston,  through  his  Foreign  Secretary,  Lord  John 
Russell,  demanded  the  liberation  of  the  envoys  within 
seven  days ;  his  letter  was  toned  down  by  the  advice  of 
the  noble  Prince  Albert,  who  was  then  dying.  The 
Confederate  envoys  were  liberated  January  1,  1862. 

E?iglish  troops  were  at  once  sent  to  Canada,  and  when 
Cobden  justly  asked  Palmerston  why  eight  or  ten 
thousand  men  had  been  sent,  after  the  American  minis- 
ter, Mr.  Adams,  had  told  the  English  that  the  act  of 


^ill 


!•     !l 


.11  ;f 


120 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


Wilkos  was  not  sanctioned  by  the  Washington  Govern- 
ment, Talinerston  replied  that  the  best  way  to  keep 
peace  was  to  show  tliat  one  was  not  afraid  of  war. 

It  was  a  doubtful  measure,  for  it  produced  bitter  feel- 
ing on  both  sides,  which  showed  itself  when  the  Ala- 
bama claims  were  settled  years  after  Palmerston  was  in 
his  grave.  Mr.  Sanders  well  says,  "The  management 
of  the  Alabama  affair  by  the  Palmerston  Government 
was  a  blunder."  It  came  near  involving  in  war  two 
nations,  the  English  and  American,  which,  for  a  thou- 
sand reasons,  ought  to  go  forward  helpfully  and  peace- 
fully in  the  world's  progress. 

Another  unfortunate  matter  was  the  joint  expedition 
to  Mexico,  by  France,  England,  and  Spain,  in  1861,  to 
demand  from  Mexico  payment  of  debts  long  neglected, 
and  proper  protection  of  Europeans.  Spain  sent  six 
thousand  men,  France  twenty-five  hundred,  with  large 
re-enforcements  soon  after,  and  England  one  ship,  two 
frigates,  and  seven  hundred  marines. 

Napoleon  III.  had  pledged  himself,  like  the  two  other 
Powers,  not  to  interfere  in  the  form  of  government 
established  in  Mexico.  Palmerston  had  c^  sed  to  trust 
tlie  Emperor,  and  frankly  said  so ;  and  as  soon  as  it  was 
found  that  the  latter  had  already  persuaded  the  Aroli- 
duke  Maximilian,  brother  of  the  Emperor  of  Austria,  to 
accept  the  crown  of  monarchy  which  Napoleon  should 
impose  upon  the  Mexicans,  England  and  Spain  withdrew 
from  the  expedition. 

America  protested  against  this  infringement  of  the 
Monroe  doctrine,  which  forbids  any  European  power 
to  establish  a  monarchy  on  her  soil.  Napoleon 
expected  that  the  Soutli  would  triumph,  and  he  should 
be  at  hand  to  make  her  his  ally.     The   South  did  not 


* 


» 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


121 


triumph,   and  Napoleon  was  obliged  to  withdraw  his 
soldiers  from  Mexico. 

The  ^lexican  Empire  lasted  only  a  few  weeks.  The 
cultivated  and  brave  INIaximilian,  in  raising  an  army  to 
defend  liimself  from  the  existing  government  of  Juarez, 
persuaded,  it  is  said,  by  a  French  officer,  issued  a  decree 
that  all  who  resisted  his  authority  in  arms  should  be 
shot.  Many  ^Mexican  officers,  of  course,  resisted  a 
foreign  ruler,  and  were  shot. 

When  Juarez  conquered,  Maximilian,  left  to  his  fate, 
was  arrested,  condemned,  and  shot,  in  spite  of  the  pro- 
test of  the  world.  Poor  Carlotta,  the  beautiful  and 
lovely  wife  of  Maximilian,  was  already  a  maniac  in 
consequence  of  this  ill-fated  Napoleonic  scheme. 

All  this  imbittered  the  North  towards  England  and 
France,  as  it  was  felt,  with  truth,  that  the  expedition 
was  ungenerously  undertaken  at  a  critical  hour  in  the 
life  of  the  American  Republic. 

Lord  Palmerston  was  now  an  old  man,  past  eighty. 
When  he  was  seventy-nine,  he  went  to  Scotland  to  be 
installed  Lord  Rector  of  the  University  of  Glasgow. 
He  received  the  freedom  of  tlie  city  of  Edinburgh.  As 
he  sailed  down  the  Clyde,  thousands  of  working-men 
gathered  on  tlie  banks  to  see  the  man  who  "  lived  to 
make  England  great." 

Palmerston  did  not  forget  to  visit  Peggie  Forbes,  who 
was  a  servant  at  Professor  Dugald  Stewart's  when  he  was 
studying  there  sixty-two  years  before.  She  showed  him 
an  old  box  of  tools  wliicli  slie  had  preserved  all  those 


years,    because    they 


belonged 


to     "  young     Maister 


Henry." 

AVhen  suffering  from  rhonmati.     ,  so  that  he  could  not 
open   a   letter,    Lord   Palmerston  still  attended  to  his 


!   -n 


m 


Hi 


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ill 


4  *; 
3     I 


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122 


LORD  PALMERSTON. 


duties  in  the  House  of  Commons.  He  exercised  daily 
on  horseback,  saying,  "  Every  other  abstinence  will  not 
make  up  for  abstinence  from  exercise." 

He  took  cold  while  out  driving  in  the  fall  of  1865, 
and  died  at  Brocket,  in  Hertfordshire,  —  the  place  which 
Lady  Palmerston  had  inherited  from  her  brother,  Lord 
Melbourne,  —  at  eleven  o'clock,  on  the  morning  of 
October  18.  Had  he  lived  two  days  longer,  he  would 
have  been  eighty-one.  He  was  buried  October  27,  in 
the  north  transept  of  Westminster  Abbey,  amid  a  great 
concourse  of  sorrowing  people. 

Four  years  later  his  grave  was  opened,  and  his  wife, 
Emily  Mary,  Viscountess  Palmerston,  was  laid  beside  the 
man  whose  brilliant  record  in  English  politics  she  helped 
to  make  for  twenty-six  years. 

"No  man,"  says  Justin  McCarthy,  "since  the  death  of 
the  Duke  of  Wellington,  had  filled  so  conspicuous  a 
place  in  the  public  mind.  No  man  had  enjoyed  any- 
thing like  the  same  amount  of  popularity.  He  died  at 
the  moment  when  that  popularity  had  reached  its  very 
zenith." 

Lord  Palmerston  ruled  England  in  troublous  times. 
He  made  mistakes,  and  who  does  not  ?  but  he  was  hon»\st, 
brave,  appreciative  of  other  men,  even-tempered,  without 
hypocrisy,  and  sincere. 


a. 


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IN   I 


EARL  OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


i 
1 


\ 


EARL   OF   SHAFTESBURY. 


"TTTE  have,  in  iny  judgment,  lost  tlio  first  man  of  the 

V  V  age.  I  do  not  know  whom  I  should  place  second 
on  the  list ;  but  there  is  no  question  as  to  whom  I  should 
place  first  of  all.  He  was  a  man  who,  all  round,  was 
faithful  to  his  Lord  and  Master,  and  his  j\[aster's  work, 
in  every  respect.  This  is  an  especial  and  notable  loss  at 
the  time  when  many  men  seem  not  to  know  the  difference 
between  truth  and  error.  He  has  lived  for  the  nation, 
and  still  more  for  his  God." 

Tlius  s})oke  the  Rev.  Charles  H.  Spurgeon  from  his 
London  pulpit,  in  the  autumn  of  1885,  after  the  death  of 
the  Earl  of  Shaftesbury. 

Lord  Ueaconsfield  said  in  1877,  "  The  name  of  Lord 
Shaftesbury  will  descend  to  posterity  as  one  who  has, 
in  his  generation,  worked  more  than  any  other  individ- 
ual to  elevate  the  condition,  and  to  raise  the  character, 
of  his  countrymen." 

The  London  Times  said,  "The  death  of  Lord  Shaftes- 
bury, which  all  the  English  race  is  to-day  deploring, 
removes  one  of  the  most  honored  figures  of  our  con- 
temporary history.  He  is  the  most  conspicuous  recent 
instance  of  a  man,  who,  born  to  great  station  and  ample 
fortune,  has  deliberately  devoted  a  long  life  neither  to 
pleasure,  uor  to  personal  advancement,  nor  to  political 

123 


!     ♦  •!■! 


w 


IJ 


124 


EAliL   OF  SFTAFTESnunr. 


l)o\vor,  but  to  furtluM-iiii,'  tlio  material,  moral,  and  reli- 
gious well-being  of  liis  countrymen." 

Antony  Ashley  Cooper,  the  seventh  Earl  of  Shaftes- 
bury, born  in  Grosvenor  Square,  London,  April  28,  1801, 
came  of  royal  lineage.  His  motlier.  Lady  Anno,  was 
the  daughter  of  George,  fourth  Duke  of  ^Marlijorough ; 
his  father,  Cropley  Ashley  Cooper,  the  sixth  Earl  of 
Shaftesbury.  The  Ashley  family  have  held  an  impor- 
tant place  in  English  history  since  the  time  of  Henry 
the  Second. 

The  first  Earl,  Antony  Ashley  Cooper,  was  a  member 
of  the  Parliament  assembled  by  Oliver  Cromwell,  but 
after  his  death,  aided  in  the  restoration  of  Charles  II., 
and  belonged  to  the  famous  secret  Cabinet  of  that  mon- 
arch, called  Cabal,  from  the  ini'  i^ls  of  its  members : 
Clifford,  Arlington,  lUickinghan:.,  Ashley,  and  Lauder- 
dale. In  1079  Ashley  drew  up  and  carried  what  was 
then  known  as  "  Lord  Shaftesbury's  Act,"  now  called  the 
"Habeas  Corpus  Act,"  which  gives  any  one  committed 
to  prison  the  right  to  be  brought  before  the  Court  of 
Queen's  l^ench  or  Common  Pleas,  to  ascertain  whether 
sent  there  justly  or  not. 

This  important  act  is  said,  in  the  "Lives  of  Lord 
Chancellors,"  to  have  been  carried  by  accident,  after 
great  opposition.  Bishop  Purnet  says,  "  Lords  Grey 
and  Norris  were  named  to  be  tellers.  Lord  Korris, 
being  a  man  subject  to  va})ors,  was  not  at  all  times 
attentive  to  what  he  was  doing.  So,  a  very  fat  lord 
coming  in,  Lord  Grey  counted  him  for  ten,  as  a  jest  at 
first;  but  seeing  Lord  Xorris  had  not  observed  it,  he 
went  on  with  his  misreckoning  of  ten.  So  it  was 
reported  to  the  House,  and  decided  that  they  who  were 
for  the  bill  were  the  majority,  though  it  indeed  went 
on  the  other  side." 


; 


EA 11 L    OF  SI  1. 1  FTI'JSli  Uli  V. 


125 


I 


For  his  efforts  to  exclude  the  Duke  of  York,  after- 
wnrds  James  II.,  from  the  throne,  the  Lord  llij;;h  Chan- 
cellor, the  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  was  seized  at  his  resi- 
dence, and  committed  to  the  Tower  on  a  charge  of  high 
treason.  He  was  acquitted,  to  the  great  joy  of  the 
})eo})le,  went  to  Holland,  and  died  there  in  1(583. 

Tlie  first  Earl  of  Shaftesbury  married  for  his  second 
wife,  Lady  Frances  Cecil,  a  direct  descendant  from 
Thomas  of  Woodstock,  fifth  son  of  Edward  III.,  and  on 
her  mother's  side  related  to  John  of  Gaunt.  Her  son 
became  the  second  Earl  of  Shaftesbury.  Thus  the 
family  are  of  the  lineage  of  William  the  Conqueror. 

The  second  earl  married,  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  the 
daughter  of  the  first  Duke  of  Kutland.  The  third  earl, 
educated  by  John  Locke,  became  an  eloquent  speaker  in 
the  House  of  Lords,  and  the  author  of  "  Characteristics 
of  Men,  Planners,  0])inions,  and  Times." 

The  fourth  earl  was  the  intimate  friend  of  Handel, 
who  bequeathed  to  him  a  com[>lete  set  of  his  oratorios 
in  manuscript.  The  earl  built  at  St.  Giles's  House,  the 
family  seat  in  Dorsetshire,  a  grotto  of  shells,  stones,  and 
ores  brought  from  all  parts  of  the  world,  costing  at 
least  ten  thousand  pounds. 

The  fifth  earl  died  without  children,  and  his  oidy 
brother,  Cropley  Ashley  Cooper,  became  the  sixth  earl. 
For  forty  years  he  was  "chairman  of  committees"  in 
tlie  House  of  Lords :  an  able  man,  but  stern  and  unsym- 
pathetic. 

Of  his  ten  children,  the  eldest  son,  Antony  Ashley 
Cooper,  became  the  seventh  Earl  of  Shaftesbury. 

The  childhood  of  the  latter  was  extremely  unhappy. 
His  father  was  absorbed  in  matters  of  state;  his  mother 
in  fashion  and  pleasure.     His  only  confidant  was  an  old 


ii 


i 


w^ 


\u 


126 


EARL  OF  SIIAFTEsnURy 


'II  ' 


n    ! . 


i.n 


servant,  Mavia  Millis,  who  had  been  his  mother's  maid 
at  Blenlieiiu  when  she  was  a  girl.  She  tohl  him  Bible 
stories  as  she  held  him  on  her  knees. 

"  She  taught  liim  a  prayer,"  says  Mr.  Edwin  Hodder 
in  liis  intensely  interesting  Life  of  Shaftesbury,  "the 
first  })rayer  he  ever  learned;  a  prayer  which  he  never 
omitted  to  use  through  all  the  trying  days  that  were 
soon  to  come  upon  him.  And  in  his  old  age,  especially 
in  times  of  sickness,  he  very  frequently  found  himself 
in  his  prayers  repeating  those  simple  words." 

At  seven  years  of  age  young  Ashley  was  sent  to 
school  at  the  ]Manor  House,  Chiswick.  Here  he  was 
more  unhappy  even  than  at  home.  He  said  in  his  old 
age,  '•  The  memory  of  that  place  makes  me  shudder ;  it 
is  repulsive  to  me  even  now.  I  think  there  never  was 
such  a  wicked  school  before  or  since.  The  place  was 
bad,  wicked,  tilthy  ;  and  the  treatment  was  starvation 
and  crueltv." 

Here  the  lad's  first  great  sorrow  came  to  him  in  the 
death  of  Maria  ]Millis.  She  left  him  her  watch,  a  hand- 
some gold  one,  and  he  never  wore  any  other.  He  used 
often  to  say,  "  That  was  given  to  me  by  the  best  friend 
I  ever  had  in  the  world.  .  .  .  Slie  entered  into  rest 
when  I  was  about  seven  years  old ;  but  the  recollection 
of  what  she  said,  and  did,  and  taught,  even  to  a  prayer 
that  I  now  constantly  use,  is  as  vivid  as  in  the  days 
that  I  heard  her. 

"  The  iui})ression  was,  and  is  still,  very  deep,  that  she 
made  upon  me ;  and  I  must  trace  under  God,  very  much, 
perhaps  all,  of  the  duties  of  my  later  life,  to  her 
precepts  and  hor  prayers. 

'•I  know  not  where  slic  was  buried.  She  died,  I 
know,   in   London ;  and   I    nuiy  safely  say  that  I   have 


' 


-U 


EARL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


127 


(1 


ever  cherished  her  memory  with  the  deepest  gratitude 
and  affection.     She  was  a  '  special  Providence '  to  me." 

Often,  when  his  name  had  become  a  household  word 
all  over  England,  his  eyes  would  fill  with  tears  as  he 
said,  "  God  be  praised  for  her,  and  for  her  loving  faith- 
fulness ;  we  shall  meet  by  and  by  ii.  the  house  where 
there  are  many  mansions."  Noble  Maria  Millis !  her 
work  as  a  servant  was  better  than  that  of  many  a 
queen. 

The  years  between  the  ages  of  seven  and  twelve  were 
pitiful  to  remember.  Ashley  feared  his  parents  as  much 
as  he  feared  the  school  authorities.  "  There  was  no 
sympathy  of  any  kind  between  them.,  no  exhibition  in 
any  way,  of  affection.  His  heart  sank  within  him  when 
the  day  came  for  him  to  go  home  for  the  holidays,  and 
it  uank  within  him  when  he  had  to  return  to  school." 

At  twelve  he  was  removed  from  the  Manor  House 
School  to  Harrow,  and  placed  in  the  house  of  Dr. 
Butler,  the  head  master.  Here,  although  there  were 
some  unique  experiences,  —  one  of  the  masters,  being  a 
bad  sleeper,  used  to  call  up  his  boys  to  recite  at  four 
o'clock  on  a  winter's  morning,  —  the  youth  was  happy. 

The  sixth  earl  had  meantime  come  into  possession  of 
the  Shaftesbury  estates,  and  Ashley  spent  his  vacations 
at  St.  Giles's  House,  which  in  after  years  became  his 
own. 

St.  Giles  is  a  few  hours  from  London,  reached  by  the 
Exeter  line  of  the  South-western  Railway.  The  man- 
sion, built  in  the  Elizabethan  style,  with  Italian  towers, 
is  in  the  midst  of  a  wooded  park  of  four  hundred  and 
twenty-three  acres.  An  avenue  of  trees  leads  from  the 
east  front  to  one  of  the  entrance  lodges,  a  distance  of  a 
mile.     A  streani  winds  through  the  park,  forming  a  lake 


^1   ., 

*J  !l 


iii 


W  li 


ill 


'J , 


128 


EAIiL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


of  seven  acves  in  extent,  on  the  border  of  which  is  a 
summer-house,  adorned  with  memorials  of  the  poet 
Thomson,  author  of  tlie  '^Seasons,"  a  friend  of  the 
fourth  earl. 

The  boy,  loving  nature,  found  great  delight  in  this 
country  home.  He  explored  every  nook  of  Cranborne 
Chase,  two  miles  from  St.  Giles,  covering  an  area  of 
eighteen  square  miles.  As  late  as  1828  it  contained 
twelve  thousand  deer.  The  old  town  of  Cranborne, 
with  its  manor-house  belonging  to  the  Marquis  of  Salis- 
bury, the  churches  of  Cranborne  and  St.  Giles,  the  peo- 
ple in  the  little  villages,  —  all  interested  the  hitherto 
lonely  and  sad  young  lord. 

The  great  mansion,  too,  was  full  of  interest.  The 
library,  between  sixty  and  seventy  feet  long,  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  rooms  in  the  house,  had  books  on  every 
side,  from  floor  to  ceiling ;  the  dining-room  would  ac- 
commodate forty  guests  ;  the  great  hall,  covered  over, 
and  lighted  by  an  oval  lantern,  a  gallery  on  three  sides, 
with  organ  and  grand  piano,  was  elegant  with  works  of 
art.  "Who  could  have  foreseen  that  this  liall  would  be 
used,  in  the  years  to  come,  for  Gospel  services  on  Sun- 
day evenings,  where  the  family,  the  visitors,  the  servants, 
and  the  village  folk  would  sing  and  pray  together  ? 

When  Lord  Ashley  was  between  fourteen  and  fifteen 
years  of  age  an  incident  occurred  at  Harrow  wli^ch  de- 
cided his  life  work.  He  heard  great  shouting  and  sing- 
ing of  vulgar  songs,  on  a  side  street,  wlien  presently  four 
or  five  drunken  men  ai)peare(l,  bearing  the  coffin  of  a 
comrade,  which  in  their  staggering  they  let  fall.  The 
picture  was  a  terrible  one.  From  that  moment  he 
determined  to  devote  his  life  to  the  poor  and  the  friend- 
less. And  he  never  changed  that  decision,  amid  all  the 
allurements  of  fame  or  position, 


EARL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


129 


(Ic- 


Ashley  left  Harrow  soon  after  he  became  fifteen.  He 
says  :  "  At  about  sixteen  I  went  to  reside  with  a  clergy- 
man in  Derbyshire  who  had  married  my  first  cousin.  I 
was  sent  there,  in  fact,  to  be  got  out  of  the  way,  for  the 
clergyman  never  professed  that  he  was  able  to  teach  me 
anything,  nor,  indeed,  did  my  father  require  of  him  any 
such  services.  I  had  a  horse,  and  there  were  dogs  be- 
longing to  the  house,  that  constituted  my  great  amuse- 
ment, and  a  family  in  the  neighborhood  showed  me 
abundant  hospitality. 

"  I  remained  there  about  two  years,  and  perhaps  no 
two  years  were  ever  so  misspent.  I  hardly  ever  opened 
a  book,  and  seldom  heard  anything  that  was  worth 
hearing ;  nevertheless,  there  were  co'istantly  fioating  in 
my  mind  all  sorts  of  aspirations,  though  I  never  took  a 
step  to  make  their  fulfilment  possible. 

"  ]\[y  father  had  resolved  to  put  me  in  the  army,  but 
he  was  dissuaded  from  that  purpose  by  the  influence,  I 
believe,  of  a  friend,  of  whose  kind  act  I  shall  always 
tliink  with  the  deepest  gratitude." 

Ashley  -vent  to  Christ  Church,  Oxford,  in  1819,  and 
in  1822  took  a  first-elar,s  in  classics.  Ke  wos  diligent, 
persevering,  ambitious,  and  made  for  himself  a  worthy 
record. 

When  he  was  twenty-five^  on  November  IC,  1826,  he 
entered  Parliament,  as  member  for  Woodstock.  The 
following  month  he  heard  Canning  speak;  "  the  finest 
historical  recollection  of  my  life,"  he  said.  "  Except  the 
loftier  fiights  of  the  Bible,  I  have  never  heard  nor  read 
such  rousing  eloquence,  sucli  sentiments,  such  language, 
—  such  a  moment !  they  almost  maddened  me  with  delight 
and  enthusiasm — could  n(>t  sleep  for  agitation — fever- 
ishly and  indistinctly  recollecting  what  I  had  heard." 


li 


m 


n 


ii>  I 


1 


M,: 


i  ff 


130 


EAIiL   OF  STIAFTESnURY. 


AVhen  Canning  became  I'renner,  he  offered  Lord  Ash- 
ley  a  place  in  the  Administration.  Thongh  very  ambi- 
tious, and  always  regretting  in  his  diary  tliat  he  was  not 
accomplishing  more,  he  declined  the  offer,  largely  on 
account  of  his  warm  friendship  for  the  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton, who  had  retired  from  the  Cabinet  when  Canning 
came  into  power.  Canning  died  in  less  than  four  months, 
and  tliG  Duke  of  Wellington  soon  after  became  Prime 

jNlinister. 

Lord  Ashley  was  now  made  a  Commissioner  of  tlie 
India  l^oard  of  Control,  which  olHce  he  held  for  two 
years,  till  Earl  Grey  became  I'remier.  At  once  he 
began  to  work  earnestly  for  India,  and  this  interest 
and  labor  continued  while  lie  lived.  He  urged  improve- 
ments in  horticulture  and  husbandry.  "  Take  tlie  article 
potato,'"  he  said;  '-it  will  give  to  Ilindostan  a  second 
article  of  food;  it  will  fui-nish  them  with  a  chea}-  and 
agreeable  sustenance,  to  relieve  the  monotonous  insipid- 
ity of  their  rice;  and  it  will  become  a  resource  in  calami- 
tous times,  when  the  season  may  have  proved  unfavorable 
to  the  staple  subsistence  of  India." 

When  sutteeism,  the  burning  of  widow^s  at  the  death 
of  their  husbands,  was  brc  :ght  before  the  India  Board 
in  1(S2S,  Ashley  thought  it  "  most  outrageous  cruelty  and 
wrong.''  "On  saying  so,"  says  Lord  Ashley,  'vl  was  put 
down  at  once  as  if  I  was  a  madman  ;  L  was  wondered  at, 
for  ever  daring  to  mention  sucli  a  thing.  Well,  my  Lord 
William  Bentinck  w\as  appointed  to  the  command  in 
India.  IMy  Lord  William  Bentinick  tliercupon,  with  a 
stroke  of  liis  ])en,  put  the  unnatural  practice  down.  .  .  . 
If  you  appeal  to  the  conscience,  depend  upon  it  tlie 
millions  will  go  along  with  you."  Sutteeism  was  declared 
illegal,  December  14,  1820. 


-V-i' 


EARL   OF  SHAFTESBUliY. 


131 


Other  matters,  too,  ^vero  engaging  the  attention  of 
the  young  member  of  Parliament.  "A  Bill  to  amend  the 
Law  for  the  Regulation  of  Lunatic  Asylums  "  was  brought 
forward  in  1828.  Insane  persons  had  received  most 
shameful  treatment  in  the  early  part  of  the  century. 
Says  Ivobert  Gardiner  Hill,  F.  S.  A.,  "  Lunatics  were 
kept  constantly  chained  to  walls  in  dark  cells,  and  had 
nothing  to  lie  upon  but  straw.  The  kee])ers  visited 
them,  whip  in  hand,  and  lashed  them  into  obedience  : 
they  were  also  half  drowned  in  '  baths  of  surprise,'  and 
in  some  cases  semi-strangulation  was  resorted  to.  The 
'baths  of  surprise  '  were  so  conscructed  that  the  patients 
in  passing  over  a  trap-door  fell  in;  some  patients  were 
chained  in  wells,  and  the  water  made  to  rise  until  it 
reached  their  chins.  One  horrible  contrivance  was  a 
rotatory  chair,  in  which  patients  were  made  to  sit,  and 
were  revolved  at  a  frightfid  speed.  The  chair  was  in 
common  use.  ]*atients,  women  as  well  as  men,  were 
flogged  at  particular  periods,  chained  and  fastened  to 
iron  bars,  and  even  confined  in  iron  cages." 

Young  Lord  Ashley  determined  to  see  for  himself  the 
condition  of  the  insane.  He  visited  asylums  in  London 
and  in  the  provinces ;  he  saw  lunatics  chained  to  their 
beds,  and  left  from  Saturday  afternoon  to  ]\ronday  noon 
without  attendance,  only  bread  and  water  within  their 
reach  ;  the  violent  and  quiet  were  shut  up  together  in 
damp,  dark,  filthy  cells ;  and  what  astonished  him  most 
of  all,  says  IMr.  Hodder,  "  was  that  people  knew  and 
cared  absolutely  nothing  about  this  state  of  things." 

He  made  his  first  important  speech  in  Parliament  on 
this  subject,  and  materially  helped  to  pass  a  bill,  in 
July,  1828,  by  whicli  power  was  transferred  from  the 
College  of  l*hysicians  to  fifteen  IMetropolitan  Commis- 


^\  ill 


■*  \ 


^^ 


li^ 


132 


EABL   OF  SfTAFTESnURY 


i| 


sioners  appointed  by  the  Home  Secretary,  and  the 
requirement  of  two  medical  certificates  for  private  pa- 
tients. Lord  Ashley  was  made  chairman  of  the  commis- 
sion, and  held  the  position  for  fifty-seven  years,  till  his 

death. 

Seventeen  years  after  the  passage  of  tha  bill,  a  per- 
manent lunacy  commission  was  effected,  with  six  paid 
commissioners  at  salaries  of  £1,500  each.  The  chairman 
received  no  salary. 

Lord  Ashley  wrote  in  his  diary,  after  making  his  first 
speech  in  the  House  of  Commons  :  "  By  God's  blessing, 
my  first  effort  has  been  for  the  advancement  of  human 
happiness.  May  I  improve  hourly.  .  .  I  prayed  most 
earnestly,  as  I  ever  do,  for  aid  and  courage.  Though  I 
did  not  please  myself,  I  found  that  the  House  was  de- 
lighted. Cheers  and  compliments  were  abundant.  I 
thanked  God  repeatedly ;  hastened  home  to  throw  myself 
on  my  knees  in  gratitude." 

Seventeen  years  later  he  wrote :  "  Never  have  I  suf- 
fered more  anxiety  than  on  these  lunacy  bills.  I  dream 
every  night,  and  pass,  in  my  visions,  through  every 
clause,  and  confuse  the  whole  in  one  great  mass.  It  is 
very  trying  —  perpetual  objections,  perpetual  correspond- 
ence, perpetual  doubt." 

Still  later  he  wrote :  "  Seventeen  years  of  labor  and 
anxiety  obtained  the  Lunacy  Bill  in  1845,  and  five 
years'  increased  labor  since  that  time  have  carried  it 
into  operation.  It  has  effected,  I  know,  prodigious 
relief,  has  forced  the  construction  of  many  public 
asylums,  and  greatly  multiplied  inspection  and  care." 

He  was  never  applied  to  in  vain  to  assist  in  cases 
where  it  was  possible  that  patients  were  wrongfully  shut 
up  in  asylums  ;  he  pleaded  the  cause  of  pauper  lunatics, 


EARL   OF  SnAFTESliUltr. 


13Ji 


1   vii 


l« 


f 


iind  criminal  lunatics ;  he  addressed  great  public  meet- 
ings, and  he  forced  the  House  to  become  interested. 
He  found  from  statistics  that  from  seventy -five  to  eighty 
per  cent  of  the  insane  may  be  cured,  if  treatment  is 
given  in  the  first  twelve  months  ;  only  five  per  cent, 
if  given  later.  If  he  had  done  no  other  work  for  human- 
ity. Lord  Ashley  would  have  fulfilled  his  early  desire : 
''  I  am  bound  to  try  what  God  has  put  into  me  for  the 
benefit  of  Old  England." 

In  1861  Lord  Ashley  desired  to  establish  an  asylum 
for  the  insane  of  the  middle  classes.  At  the  meeting  at 
which  he  spoke,  Mr.  Thomas  Holloway  became  deeply 
interested,  and  resolved  to  giv^e  his  fortune  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  insane.  He  visited  Lord  Ashley,  and  was  dis- 
suaded by  him  from  giving  all  of  his  money  to  one  object, 
as  he  had  intended.  ]\Ir.  Holloway  died  in  1883,  and 
two  years  after,  June  15,  1885,  the  Holloway  Sanatarium, 
costing  £300,000,  was  opened  at  Virginia  Water,  by  the 
Prince  of  Wales ;  and  in  1886  that  magnificent  insti- 
tution, the  Ladies'  College  at  Egham,  founded  at  a  cost 
of  £450,000. 

During  all  these  early  years.  Lord  Ashley  was  devoted 
to  the  study  of  science.  He  also  learned  Welsh  and 
Hebrew.  "Nothing  has  ever  given  me  more  delight  and 
satisfaction,"  he  si<Id  at  this  time  in  his  diary,  "  than  my 
study  of  the  Welsh  language."  He  was  the  friend  of 
Sir  James  South,  the  astronomer,  and  often  studied  the 
heavens  with  him.  He  was  also  the  friend  of  Southey, 
and  they  corresponded  till  the  poet-laureate  died. 
Southey  told  Ashley,  "  that  he  had  six  or  seven  different 
reading-desks  in  his  stiuly,  with  a  different  book  or 
theme  on  each  ;  on  one  a  magazine  article ;  on  anotlier, 
a  poem  ;  on  another,  a  study  in  history ;  on  another,  a 


Is 


i 


11 


134 


EARL  OF  SriAFTESnURr. 


>:  i 


t 


letter  to  a  friend ;  and  so  on.  When  lie  tired  of  the  one 
he  went  to  the  other,  and  found  Ir'niself  so  refreshed  by 
the  change,  that  he  was  able  to  oe  in  his  study  from 
early  in  the  mornin,'^  till  late  at  night,  going  to  each 
subject  with  fresli  zest  and  vigor." 

He  knew  Walter  .Scott,  and  he  said :  "  To  know  him 
was  to  love  him.  The  two  greatest  characters  of  the 
last  century  and  of  the  present,  perhaj^F:  of  any  one,  are, 
in  my  mind,  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  Sir  Walter 
Scott;  and  they  have  many  points  ol  resemblance,  none 
more  striking  than  their  simplicity." 

Referring  to  these  days,  Lord  Ashley  said  in  his  old 
age :  "  In  early  life  I  was  passionately  devoted  to  science, 
so  much  so  that  I  was  almost  disposed  to  pursue  science 
to  the  exclusion  of  everything  else.  It  passed  away,  and 
I  betook  myself  to  literature,  lioi)ing  that  I  should  not 
only  equal,  but  that  I  should  rival,  many  in  mental  ac- 
complisliments.  Other  things  were  before  me,  and  other 
things  passed  away,  becraise,  do  what  I  would,  I  was 
called  to  another  career;  and  now  I  find  myself,  at  the  end 
of  a  long  life,  not  a  philosopher,  not  an  author,  but  sim- 
ply an  old  man  wlio  has  endeavored  to  do  his  duty  in  that 
state  of  life  to  which  it  has  pleased  God  to  call  him." 

And  the  world  has  been  made  the  better,  because  the 
noble  Earl  of  Shaftesbury  lived  simply  "  to  do  his  duty." 

Ashley  had  reached  liis  twenty-eighth  year.  With  an 
ardent,  earnest  nature,  it  was  not  strange  that  his  heart 
should  long  for  a  reciprocal  affection.  He  speaks  in  his 
journal  of  an  attachment  during  a  residence  in  Vienna, 
which  he  did  not  think  it  wise  t(^  continue.  At  twenty- 
six,  while  at  Aberystwitli,  Wales,  he  wrote  :  "  If  I  could 
find  the  creature  I  have  invented.  I  should  love  her  with 
a  tenderness  and  truth  unprecedented  in  the  history  of 


EARL   OF  SirAFTESIiUBY. 


135 


m 


wedlock.     I  pray  for  her  abundantly.     God  grant  me  this 
purest  of  blessings." 

Earl  Granville  says  of  this  period  of  Ashley's  life: 
"  He  was  then  a  singularly  good-looking  man,  with  abso- 
lutely nothing  of  effeminate  beauty.  He  had  those  manly 
good  looks,  and  that  striking  presence,  which,  I  believe,  — 
though,  of  course,  inferior  by  hundreds  of  degrees  to  the 
graces  of  mind  and  of  character,  —  help  a  man  more  than 
we  sometimes  think,  and  they  helped  him  when  he  en- 
deavored to  inspire  his  humble  fellow-countrymen  with 
his  noble  and  elevated  nature.  Those  good  looks  he 
retained  to  the  end  of  his  life. 

"At  the  time  I  am  speaking  of,  he  was  seeking  to 
marry  that  bright  and  beautiful  woman  who  afterwards 
threw  so  much  sunshine  on  his  home." 

Another  says :  "  Lord  Ashley  possesses,  perhaps  the 
palest,  purest,  stateliest  exterior  of  any  man  you  will  see 
in  a  month's  perambulation  of  Wesuminster  ;  indeed,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  imagine  a  more  complete  beau  ideal 
of  aristocracy.  ... 

"  His  forehead  has  al^*?  much  of  the  marble  about  it; 
his  curly  dark  hair,  in  its  thick  masses  resembles  that 
of  a  sculptured  bust,  and  his  line  brow  and  features  are 
distinctly  yet  delicately  cut.  .  .  .  The  whole  countenance 
has  the  coldness,  as  well  as  the  grace,  of  a  chiselled  oiu>, 
and  expresses  precision,  prudence,  and  determination  in 
no  common  degree.  ... 

"  As  pieces  of  composition,  his  addresses  are  faultless ; 
every  sentence  is  perfect  in  its  form  and  correct  in  its 
bearing.  His  delivery  is  fluent,  but  not  rapid  ;  his  voice 
fine  and  rich  in  tone." 

He  was  married  June  10,  1S30,  to  Emily,  daughter  of 
the  fifth  Earl  Cowper,  and  niece  of  Lord  ^Melbourne,  the 


>ti 


IJ 


136 


EAIiL   OF  SIIAFTESBUnY. 


m  i 


t 


I:! 


fi 


11 


! 


Premier.  A  singularly  happy  wedded  life  resulted.  He 
always  preferred,  as  he  said,  "  her  happiness,  even  for 
an  hour,  to  whole  years  of  my  own.  ...  No  man,  I  am 
sure,  ever  enjoyed  more  happiness  in  his  married  life. 
God  be  everlastingly  praised." 

"  In  1831  Lord  Ashley  was  chosen  to  contest  the  county 
of  Dorset,  for  a  seat  in  Parliament.  His  opponent  was 
Hon.  William  Francis  Spencer  Ponsonby,  whom  he  de- 
feated after  a  fifteen-days  struggle.  The  expenses  of  the 
election,  for  horses,  taverns,  carriages,  and  the  like,  reached 
the  enormous  sum  of  £15,600  !  This  Lord  Ashley,  though 
at  the  time  very  much  straitened  by  it,  was  obliged  to 
pay.  No  wonder  that  this  evil  was  deplored  by  every- 
body, and  was  largely  done  away  by  the  passage  in  1854 
of  the  Corrupt  Practices  Act,  providing  for  publication 
of  accounts  after  parliamentary  elections,  and  restraining 
candidates  from  paying  any  expenses  except  through 
authorized  agents. 

And  now  a  great  work  begun  for  Lord  Ashley  in  Par- 
liament ;  a  work  with  which  his  name  will  always  be 
associated,  —  factory  legislation. 

Through  inventions  in  machinery,  especially  by  James 
Hargreaves,  with  his  "spinning-jenny,"  and  Sir  Richard 
Arkwright,  a  great  demand  for  child-labor  was  created. 
Large  numbers  of  children  were  taken  out  of  the  work- 
houses of  London  and  Edinburgh,  packed  in  wagons,  and 
sent  to  Nottingham,  jNLanchester,  and  elsewhere.  Under 
the  "apprentice  system,"  pauper  children  were  bound  by 
churchwardens  and  overseers  of  parislies  to  mill-owners, 
to  work  from  five  years  of  age  to  twenty-five. 

"  A  horrible  traffic,"  in  the  words  of  Mr.  Hodder,  "  had 
sprung  up;  child-jobbers  scoured  the  country  for  the  pur- 
pose of  purchasing  children  to  sell  them  again  into  the 


EARL   OF  SIIAFTKSIW    . 


1.37 


bondage  of  factory  slaves.  Tlie  waste  of  huiuan  life  in 
the  manufactories  to  which  the  children  were  consigned 
was  simply  frightful.  Day  and  night  the  machinery  was 
kept  going,  one  gang  of  children  working  it  by  day,  and 
another  set  by  night ;  while,  in  times  of  pressure,  the 
same  children  were  kept  working  day  and  night  by  re- 
morseless taskmasters.  .  .  . 

"  Their  tirst  labors  generally  consisted  in  picking  up 
loose  cotton  from  the  floor.  This  was  done  amid  the 
burring  din  of  machinery,  in  an  average  heat  of  70°  to 
90°  Fahrenheit,  and  in  the  fumes  of  the  oil  with  which 
the  axles  of  twenty  thousand  wheels  and  spindles  were 
bathed. 

"  *  For  all  day  the  wheels  are  droning,  turning  ; 
Their  wind  comes  in  our  faces, 
Till  our  hearts  turn,  our  heads  with  pulses  burning, 
And  the  walls  turn  in  their  places.' 


».;! 


1i; 


iil 


I '  ,  .'il 


"  Sick,  with  aching  backs  and  inflamed  ankles  from  the 
constant  stooping,  with  Angers  Lacerated  from  scraping 
the  floors,  parched  and  suffocated  by  the  dust  and  flue, 
the  little  slaves  toiled  from  morning  till  night.  If  they 
paused,  the  brutal  overlooker,  who  w^as  responsible  for  a 
certain  amount  of  work  being  performed  by  each  child 
under  him,  urged  them  on  by  kicks  and  blows. 

"  When  the  dinner-time  came,  after  six  hours  labor,  it 
was  only  to  rest  for  forty  minutes,  and  to  partake  of 
black  bread  and  porridge,  or  occasionally  some  coarse 
Irish  bacon. 

"  In  process  of  time  more  important  employment  was 
given  to  them,  involving  longer  hours,  and  harder  work. 
Lost  time  had  to  be  made  up  by  overwork ;  they  were 
required  every  other  day  to  stop  at  the  mill  during  the 


ill 


'\  1 


Ui 


138 


EAIIL  OF  siiAFTEsisrnr. 


I 


(liiinor  hour,  to  clean  tho  frames  ;  and  tliere  was  scarcely 
a  moment  of  relaxation  for  them  until  Sunday  came, 
when  their  one  thought  was  to  rest.  Stage  by  stage  they 
sank  into  the  profoundest  depths  of  wretchedness.  In 
weariness  they  often  fell  upon  the  mac  dnery,  and  almost 
every  factory  child  was  more  or  less  njured  ;  through 
hunger,  neglect,  over-fatigue,  and  poisonous  air,  they  died 
in  terrible  numl)ers,  swept  off  by  contagious  fevers." 

When  they  perished  by  the  machinery,  a  coroner's  in- 
quest was  rarely  held.  They  worked  fourteen  or  more 
hours  a  day,  with  no  education,  and  the  merest  pittance 
for  wages. 

Something  had  been  done  by  Sir  Robert  Peel,  him- 
self a  mill-owner,  and  others,  to  do  away  with  the 
"apprentice  system."  The  hours  had  been  somewhat 
shortened,  but  the  toil  was  excessive. 

Among  those  whose  hearts  had  been  stirred  by  the 
overwork  of  women  and  children,  was  Michael  Thomas 
Sadler,  jM.  P.  for  Newark.  He  introduced  his  famous 
"  Ten  Hours  Bill "  into  the  House  of  Commons  in  j.8.'>l, 
but  lost  his  seat  the  following  year  by  the  Keform  liill 
of  1832,  which  disfranchised  Newark. 

The  mill-owners  were  incensed  at  the  idea  of  women 
and  children  working  only  ten  hours  a  day.  As  they 
had  long  worked  for  twelve  and  more,  it  was  believed 
that  by  the  loss  of  two  hours'  labor,  profits  would  be 
so  lessened  that  mills  must  close. 

The  operatives  were  heart-broken  that  Sadler  could  no 
longer  fight  their  battles  for  them.  Eev.  G.  S.  Bull  was 
sent  to  London  to  confer  with  Lord  Ashley  to  see  if  he 
would  move  Sadler's  bill. 

Lord  Ashley  says  in  his  journal,  "I  can  perfectly 
recollect  my  astonishment  and  doubt  and  terror  at  the 
proposition." 


*^WW5r5K99BSTC5«C 


EAUL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


139 


He  asked  till  the  next  morning  to  reflect  upon  the 
subject.  If  he  undertook  the  cause  of  the  working- 
peoi)le,  it  meant  hate,  worry,  toil,  the  abandonment  of 
all  literary  pursuits,  as  there  would  be  no  leisure,  and 
perhai)S  a  lifetime  spent  among  the  poor.  He  laid  the 
matter  before  his  young  wife,  and  asked  her  judgment. 

*'  It  is  your  duty,''  she  said,  "  and  the  consequences 
we  nnist  le  ve.     Go  forward,  and  to  victory  !  " 

jMr.  Bull  wrote  back  to  the  Lancashire  and  Yorkshire 
committees :"  His  lordship  says,  '  It  seems  no  one  else 
will  undertake  it,  so  I  will  ;  and  witliout  cant  or  hypoc- 
risy, which  I  hate,  I  assure  you  I  dare  not  refuse  thd 
request  you  have  so  earnestly  pressed.  I  believe  it  is 
my  duty  to  God  and  to  the  poor,  and  I  trust  He  will 
support  me.  Talk  of  trouble !  what  do  we  come  to 
Parliament  for  ? ' 

"I  have  just  left  his  lordship,  and  find  him  more 
determined  than  ever.  He  says  it  is  your  cause  ;  if  you 
sujiport  him,  he  will  never  flinch." 

And  Lord  Ashley  never  did  flinch,  through  the  twenty 
and  more  years  in  which  he  labored  night  and  day  for 
the  factory  operatives. 

He  at  once  began  to  ascertain  for  himself  the  true 
condition  of  the  laborers.  "  In  factories,"  he  says,  "  I 
examined  the  mills,  the  machinery,  the  homes,  and  saw 
the  workers  and  their  work  in  all  its  details.  In  collieries, 
I  went  down  into  the  pits.  In  London,  I  went  into 
lodging-houses  and  thieves'  haunts,  and  every  filthy 
place.  I  used  often  to  hear  things  from  the  poor  suf- 
ferers themselves  which  were  invaluable  to  me.  I  got 
to  know  their  habits  of  thought  and  action,  and  their 
actual  wants.  I  sat  and  had  tea  and  talk  with  them 
hundreds  of  times." 


■I 


!■• 


h 


fiS 


?'' 


140 


EAUL  of  SHAFTESBURY. 


11 


w 


11 

'J 


Southey  had  begged  him  not  to  go  among  the  suffer 
ing,  lest  the  "  distressful  recollections  be  burned  in,"  and 
Lord  Asliley,  never  in  robust  health,  be  permanently 
injured ;   but  nothing  could  deter  him. 

Once  in  Bradford,  in  his  investigations,  he  says,  '•! 
asked  for  a  collection  of  cripples  and  deformities.  In  a 
short  time  more  than  eighty  were  gathered  in  a  large 
courtyard.  They  were  mere  samples  of  the  entire  mass. 
I  assert  without  exaggeration  that  no  power  of  lan- 
guage could  describe  the  varieties,  and  I  may  say  the 
cruelties,  in  all  these  degradations  of  the  human  form. 
They  stood  or  sqnatted  before  me  in  the  shapes  of  the 
letters  of  the  alphabet.  This  was  the  eft'ect  of  pro- 
longed toil  on  the  tender  frames  of  children  at  early 


?> 


ages 

The  country  soon  became  in  commotion  over  the  sub- 
ject. Eighteen  hundred  pages  of  evidence  of  cruelty 
and  poverty  and  overwork  had  been  collected  and  laid 
before  Tarliament.  It  was  found  that  of  the  nearly  fonr 
hundred  thousand  operatives  in  cotton  and  other  mills, 
over  half  were  women  and  girls.  In  factory  districts 
as  many  persons  "died  under  twenty  years  of  age  as 
under  forty  in  any  other  part  of  England."  In  Man- 
chester, half  of  the  poi)ulation  died  under  three  years 
of  age,  so  enfeebled  were  the  mothers. 

To  delay  the  question  until  the  indignation  of  the 
p(>ople  should  subside,  the  mill-owners  asked  for  an- 
other commission  of  inquiry.  Tliis  Lord  Ashley  opposed, 
as  useless,  but  it  was  granted.  At  Leeds,  Bradford, 
and  other  places  where  the  commissioners  sat,  three 
or  four  thousand  ragged  and  dirty  little  children,  as 
they  came  out  of  the  mills,  attcMuled  by  as  many  as 
fifteen   thousand   sp(M',t,;i,t')i-s,   would   appear  before   the 


.-.-■irii..  .(.»»-,  .f^    •^iw.O'J^e 


EARL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


141 


commissioners,  to  sliov  by  their  presence  that  a  second 
inquiry  was  needless.  The  first  commission  had  told 
the  real  condition,  and  at  last  the  second  commission 
only  confirmed  it. 

After  great  exertion  and  painful  investigation,  Lord 
Ashley  brought  forward  his  Ten  Hours  Bill. 

He  said  in  his  speech,  "  If  the  House  would  not 
adopt  the  bill,  they  must  drive  him  from  it,  as  he  would 
not  concede  a  single  step.  He  most  positively  declared 
that  as  long  as  he  had  a  seat  in  that  House,  as  long  as 
God  gave  him  health  and  a  sound  mind,  no  efforts,  no 
exertions,  should  be  wasted  on  his  part  to  establish  the 
success  of  the  measure.  If  defeated  in  the  pre.^^ont 
session,  he  would  bring  it  forward  in  the  next,  and  so 
on  in  every  succeeding  session  till  his  success  was 
complete." 

His  bill  was  defeated  in  July,  1833,  but  a  Govern- 
ment Bill  was  passed  with  some  good  features.  \t  for- 
bade the  employment  of  children  under  nine,  and 
women  and  young  persons  were  not  to  work  more  than 
twelve  hours  a  day. 

As  nothing  more  could  be  done  at  that  time,  Lord 
Ashley,  needing  rest  and  change,  took  his  wife  and  little 
son  Antony  to  Italy.  He  had  been  over  the  grouiid  ten 
years  before,  but  all  was  doubly  interesting  to  him, 
now  that  his  wife  was  with  him.  In  Rome  he  records 
in  his  diary,  concerning  an  evening  at  a  party,  Decem- 
ber 27 :  "  Minny  looked  heavenly,  and  a  foreigner 
requested  to  be  introduced  to  '  Mademoiselle  Ashley.' 
Is  it  wrong  to  be  so  entirely  proud  of  and  happy  in 
one's  wife's  beauty  ?  But  surely  there  is  nothing  so 
pretty  and  fascinating  as  my  IMin." 

On  the  road  to  Loretto,  in  descending  a  hill,  one  of  the 


t: 


s\ 


^  'Mi 


i,      f 


If 


h 
m 


.ni 


■ 


142 


EAEL  OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


i 


\    I 


:  \ 


It 


i 


horses  attached  to  their  hired  carriage  fell  The  drivers 
swore,  and  beat  the  horse,  kicked  its  head  and  sides, 
and  insisted  on  reharnessing  it  to  the  carriage,  though 
Ashley  protested  that  the  horse  was  ill,  and  that  he 
would  have  the  drivers  arrested.  On  arriving  at 
Loretto,  Lord  Ashley  told  the  pooL.i;:ister,  who  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  and  would  not  interfere.  He  sought  out 
the  police,  and  after  going  from  secretary  to  i)resident, 
secured  the  arrest  and  imprisonment  of  the  drivers  for 
a  time.  It  was  but  natural  that  later  Lord  Ashley 
should  become  president  of  the  Society  for  the  Preven- 
tion of  Cruelty  to  Animals. 

In  June,  1834,  Ashley  visited  his  beloved  Oxford  to 
witness  the  installation  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  as 
chancellor.  "  For  an  hour  (it  is  now  eleven  o'clock)," 
he  writes  in  his  journal,  "  I  have  lounged  about  the 
quadrangle  of  Christ  Church ;  every  inch  of  it  seems 
holy.  .  .  .  How  much  more  I  should  enjoy  this  retire- 
ment, were  IMinny  with  me  !  Vvhy  is  it  that  I  cannot 
bear  the  shortest  separation  from  her  ?  In  fact,  nothing 
is  so  delightful  to  the  heart  as  the  contemplation  of 
innocence  and  purity  ;  and  hence  it  is  that  I  feel,  in 
absence  from  her,  the  loss  of  an  unearthly  pleasure.  .  .  . 
"  June  11.  Yesterday  was  the  anniversary  of  our 
wedding.  jNIark  it  with  the  red  letters  of  joy,  hope, 
and  gratitude.  If  men  would  all  base  their  love  upon 
esteem,  and  their  esteem  upon  religion,  and  their  reli- 
gion upon  affectionate  Christianity,  marriage  would 
prove  a  twenty-fold  source  of  earthly  happiness,  and 
surety  for  heaven." 

When  Sir  Ilobert  Peel  became  Premier  in  the  winter 
of  1834,  Ashley  was  made  a  Lord  of  the  Admiralty. 
As  under  Wellington  on  the  India  P>oard,  so  here, 
he  showed  himself  accurate,  pains-taking,  and  faithful. 


EAIiL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


143 


Through  the  years  1835  to  1838,  tlie  operatives 
were  agitating  for  relief  in  factory  legislation,  as  the 
Government  Bill  of  1833  was  not  enforced.  Letters 
poured  in  upon  Lord  Ashley.  One  correspondent  com- 
plained, that,  as.  the  workers  were  summoned  to  the 
mills  by  a  horn,  it  was  "very  disagreeable  to  have 
attention  drawn  to  the  hardships  of  the  factory  chil- 
dren at  three,  four,  five,  and  six  in  the  morning,"  and 
he  hoped  "  the  nuisance  would  be  punishable  by  pen- 
alty." The  horn  was  doubtless  quite  as  disagreeable  to 
the  factory  children  at  "  three  and  four  "  in  the  morning 
as  to  the  complainant. 

The  Factory  Bill  of  1833  forbade  the  employment  of 
children  under  thirteen  for  more  than  nine  hours  a  day. 
This  clause  the  mill-owners  were  determined  to  have 
repealed,  that  they  might  make  greater  profits.  Lord 
Ashley  declared  that  this  would  "legalize  the  slavery  of 
some  forty  thousand  children,  for  the  most  part  females. 
A  more  faithless  proposal  was  never  made  to  tlie 
integrity  and  understanding  of  a  legislature." 

He  showed  how  boys  had  been  made  to  work  in  the 
foul  cellar  of  a  Yorkshire  factory  for  thirty-four  hours 
in  succession,  the  air  so  bad  that  adults  tied  handker- 
chiefs round  their  mouths  before  going  into  the  place. 
He  showed  how  factory  inspectors  permitted  attendance 
at  Sunday-school  to  be  included  in  the  twelve  hours 
education  per  week  required  by  law. 

He  showed  that  half  the  children  working  under 
surgeons'  certificates  as  thirteen,  were  scarcely  eleven 
or  twelve ;  that  in  convictions  for  breaking  the  laws 
against  poor  cliildren,  the  fines  were  only  a  half-crown, 
which  millionnaires  could  easily  pay  ;  that  inspectors 
took  two  years  to  go  their  rounds,  and  gave  notice  of 


M 


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m 


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144 


EARL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


I 


^ 


J 


1*  ■ 


each  visit,  that  matters  might  be  in  proper  condition  on 
their  arrival ;  that  clocks  were  tampered  with  to  rob  the 
children  of  their  time.     Alas,  how  terrible  is  greed ! 

Lord  Ashley,  in  a  most  able  speech  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  said:  "The  evil  was  daily  on  the  increase, 
and  was  yet  unremedied,  though  one-fifth  part  of  the 
time  the  House  had  given  to  the  settlement  of  the 
question  of  negro  slavery  would  have  been  sufficient  to 
provide  a  remedy.  What  that  House,  in  its  wisdom 
and  mercy,  decided,  tliat  forty-five  hours  in  a  week  was 
a  term  of  labor  long  enough  for  an  adult  negro,  he  thought 
it  would  not  have  been  unbecoming  that  spirit  of  lenity 
if  they  had  considered  whether  sixty-nine  hours  a  week 
were  not  too  many  for  the  children  of  the  British 
Empire.  ...  If  they  would  give  no  heed  to  that  fierce 
and  rapid  cancer  that  was  gnawing  the  very  vitals  of 
the  social  system  ;  if  they  were  careless  of  the  growth  of 
an  immense  population,  plunged  in  ignorance  and  vice, 
which  neither  feared  God  nor  regarded  man,  then  he 
warned  them  that  they  must  be  prepared  for  the  very 
worst  results  that  could  befall  an  empire." 

Charles  Dickens,  always  a  warm  admirer  of  Ashley, 
went  into  the  factory  districts  to  see  for  himself,  and 
-•'was  disgusted  and  astonished  beyond  all  measure." 
But  most  persons  were  bitterly  hostile  to  all  legislative 
action,  tliinking  it  an  interference  between  labor  and 
capital. 

Happily  for  humanity,  ideas  about  the  right  and  duty 
of  the  State  have  changed.  Knowing  that  decent  houses 
and  properly  ventilated  workshops  are  essentiid  to  the 
physical  well-being,  that  education  is  essential  to  the 
mental  well-being,  and  both  are  necessary  to  good  citi- 
zenship, the  State  now  wisely  exercises  its  supervision. 


EARL   OF  SriAFTESnUBY. 


145 


The  London  Times  took  the  side  of  Lord  Ashley 
against  the  Melbourne  government,  declaring  tliat  "all 
the  representations  and  remonstrances  made  to  the 
Ministers  upon  the  subject  liad  been  treated  with  total 
neglect  and  contempt." 

In  June,  1838,  the  vote  was  taken  upon  the  resolution 
introduced  by  Lord  Ashley,  to  make  effective  the  bill  of 
1833,  and  he  was  defeated.  It  did,  indeed,  seem  evident 
that  few  cared  for  the  poor  or  the  workers. 

In  the  autumn  of  this  year,  Lord  Ashley  and  family 
pa'^sed  several  days  at  Windsor  Castle,  on  a  visit  to  the 
Queen.  "  We  have  the  mornings  to  ourselves,"  he  writes 
in  his  journal,  "  and  the  beauty  and  magnificence  of  the 
place,  the  fineness  of  the  weather,  and  the  comfort  of 
the  apartments,  enable  us  to  pass  the  time  very  agree- 
ably. ... 

"From  the  hour  she  became  Queen  to  the  present  day, 
I  and  mine  have  received  one  invariable  succession  of 
friendly  and  hospitable  acts,  bestowed  with  a  degree  of 
ease,  good-Iiumor,  and  considerateness  that  would  be 
captivating  in  any  private  person.  The  hours  were  ten 
o'clock  for  breakfast,  unless  it  were  preferred  to  break- 
fast in  one's  own  room ;  two  o'clock  for  luncheon ;  a 
ride,  or  a  drive,  at  three  o'clock,  for  two  hours  or  so ; 
dinner  at  half-past  seven.  A  military  band  at  dinner, 
and  the  Queen's  band  after  dinner,  tilled  up,  and  very 
necessarily,  the  pauses  of  conversation.  We  sat  till 
half-past  eleven  at  a  round  table,  and  then  went  to  bed." 

It  was  fortunate  for  the  Queen  that  she  had  such  a 
Christian  friend  as  Ashley  ;  it  was  fortunate  for  Ashley 
that  he  had  such  a  Christian  queen. 

Tired  with  Parliamentary  labors,  in  August  Lord 
and  Lady  Ashley  went  to  Scotland.     They  visited  Sir 


^1 


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146 


EARL  OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


w 


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i  .; 


Archibald  Alison,  author  of  the  "History  of  Europe." 
the  Duchess  of  NorthumlarlancI  at  Alnwick  Castle,  and 
the  Earl  and  Countess  of  Tankerville  at  -Chillingham 
Castle.  Ashley  did  not  forget  to  go  into  iron-works> 
dyeing  establishments,  calico-printing  works,  and  other 
I)laces  of  labor.  He  talked  with  the  people  in  the  fields, 
Avhere  he  said,  "  One  shilling  a  day  to  the  women,  and 
fifteen  pence  to  the  men,  for  twelve  hours  at  harvest  time, 
is  considered  sufficient !  " 

They  visited  Fountains  Abbey,  "by  common  consent 
the  finest  ruin  in  England,  infinitely  graceful,  infinitely 
touching ;  "  and  Kipon  Cathedral.  He  was  proud  and 
glad  that  "  Minny  "  was  with  him.  "It  was  a  wonder- 
ful accomplishment,"  he  says  in  his  journal,  "and  a  most 
bountiful  answer  to  one's  progress,  to  have  obtained  a 
wife,  in  the  highest  matters  and  the  smallest  details, 
after  my  imagination  and  m}  heart." 

Of  Chatsworth,  the  princely  residence  of  the  Duke 
of  Devonshire,  Ashley  writes  :  "  Everything  magnificent, 
and  half  of  it  unnecessary,  even  for  the  just  display  of 
the  dignity  suited  to  the  rank  and  fortune  of  the  propri- 
etor. ...  It  is  probably  th'3  last  great  effort  of  hereditary 
wealth,  of  aristocratical  competition  with  the  splendor 
of  kings.  Acquired  properties  can  never  be  so  magnifi- 
cent, either  in  extent  or  in  display  ;  liereditary  properties 
are  undergoing  diminution,  and  the  custom,  moreover, 
of  primogeniture  (the  sole  means  of  retaining  the  unity 
of  possessions)  has  reached  the  full,  and  is  now  upon 
the  wane." 

In  1840  another  subject  claimed  Lord  Ashley's  mind 
and  heart,  —  the  miseries  of  chimney-sweeps.  The  evil 
had  been  talked  about  for  a  century ;  Jonas  Han  way.  a 
fellow-worker  with  Ivobert  Raikes  in  founding  Sund;i\ 


EARL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


147 


5> 


1 


schools,  wrote  letters  to  master  chimney-sweepers,  beg- 
ging  them  to  be  humane.  In  1817  Parliament  was 
induced  to  appoint  a  select  committee  to  investigate  the 
subject.  The  results  shocked  the  people.  It  was  found 
that  children  had  been  sold  by  their  parents,  or  stolen, 
or  apprenticed  by  poor-law  guardians,  and  forced  to  go 
up  narrow  chimneys  by  beating  or  pricking  the  soles  of 
the  feet,  or  applying  lighted  straw. 

A  bill  was  finally  passed,  in  1834,  forbidding  that 
children  under  ten  should  be  forced  to  go  up  chimneys ; 
and  providing  that  flues  should  measure  not  less  than 
fourteen  inches  by  nine  ;  that  children  'ihould  not  be  sent 
up  a  chimney  when  it  was  on  lire;  for  the  sake  of  ex- 
tinguishing it.  Lord  Kenyon  and  others  opposed  this 
mild  bill,  as  it  seemed  better  thai  a  few  pauper  children 
should  smother  than  that  a  house  should  be  burned. 

Lord  Ashley  began  to  investigate,  and  Ui?t  meant 
thorough  work.  He  went  to  see  the  masters  ;  he  saw  the 
climbing  boys  at  their  labors ;  he  made  provision  for 
life  for  some  of  the  poor  little  creatures  whom  he  res- 
cued. Children  of  five  and  six  years  were  employed, 
even  some  four  and  a  half  years  old.  They  were  sent  up 
naked,  and  often  passed  the  night  naked  on  a  soot-heap. 

Ashley  was  greatly  aided  in  his  labors  for  the  sweeps 
by  ]\Ir.  Stevens,  the  Secretary  to  the  Hand-in-Hand 
Insurance  Office.  He  brought  the  insurance  companies 
to  see  the  wisdom  and  humanity  of  using  machines 
instead  of  human  beings,  for  cleaning  chi?nneys. 

The  Act  to  punish  with  fine  all  who  shculd  compel,  or 
knowingly  allow,  any  one  under  the  age  of  twenty-one 
years  to  ascend  or  descend  a  chimney,  or  enter  a  flue, 
for  the  purpose  of  sweeping  or  cleaning  it,  was  finally 
passed,  after  strong  opposition  by  the  Lords.  It  received 
the  royal  assent,  August  7,  1810. 


I« 


148 


MART,  OF  nrrAFTEsnvnr. 


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IS 


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its 


If 


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It  had  been  difficult  to  pass  tlie  Act ;  it  was  still  more 
difficult  to  enforce  it  Eleven  years  later  another  bill 
for  the  reliei  of  the  sweeps  passed  the  Lords,  was  read 
over  iu  Commons,  and  dropped.  Two  years  later,  when 
Ashley,  then  become  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  tried  to  get  a 
bill  passed,  and  said  he  "did  not  believe  that  all  the 
lecords  of  all  the  atrocities  committed  in  this  couVitry  or 
any  other,  could  equal  tlie  records  of  cruelty,  hardship, 
vice,  and  suffering,  which,  under  the  sanction  of  the  law, 
had  been  inflicted  on  this  helpless  and  miserable  race." 
Lord  Beaamont  spoke  of  the  bill  as  "  a  pitiful  cant  of 
pseudo-philanthropy !  " 

The  bill  v,^as  referred  to  a  select  committee,  who  re- 
ported it  inexpedient  to  proceed  further.  Shaftesbury 
took  up  the  matter  again  in  1854.  The  bill  passed  the 
Lords,  and  was  thrown  out  in  Commons.  The  next  year 
a  similar  bill  was  read  once  in  the  Lords  and  abtuidoned. 

In  1861,  in  1863,  and  in  1864,  Shaftesbury  pleaded 
their  cause  again.  He  showed  how  their  day's  work 
began  often  at  two  in  the  morning;  they  would  of^en 
faint  from  terror,  exhaustion,  and  bad  air,  and  not  infre- 
quently were  smothered.  They  had  to  move  up  and 
down  the  chimneys  by  pressing  every  joint  against  the 
hard  brick  surface;  "and  uO  prevent  their  hands  and 
knees  from  streaming  witli  blood,  the  children  were 
rubbed  with  brine  before  a  hot  fire  to  harden  the  flesh." 

They  were  seldom  washed,  and  every  pore  of  the  skin 
being  choked  with  soot,  mnny  had  a  frightful  disease, 
called  chimney-sweeper's  cancer.  They  were  igno?'ant 
as  well  as  poor.  Of  three  hundred  and  eighty-four  boys 
examined  by  the  Commission  of  Inquiry,  in  1864,  only 
six  .-"ould  write,  and  but  twenty-six  could  read,  and  those 
imperfectly. 


EARL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


149 


Shaftesbury  was  not  discouraged,  though  he  wrote  in 
his  journal,  '•'  Have  suffered  actual  tortures  through  soli- 
citude for  prevention  of  these  horrid  cruelties." 

In  1HG4  he  secured  the  passage  of  an  Act  making  it 
punishable  with  imprisonment  to  send  a  boy  up  a  chim- 
ney to  clean  it.  Eight  years  went  by,  and  still  ae 
dreadful  system  endured.  In  1872  a  boy  was  suffocated 
in  a  fluR  in  Staffordshire.  In  1873  a  child  seven  and  a 
half  was  killed  in  a  flue  at  Washington.  In  February, 
1875,  George  Brewster,  a  lad  of  fourteen,  was  suffocated 
in  a  flue  at  Cambridge ;  the  master  was  senteiiced  to 
six  months  at  hard  labor  for  causing  the  boy's  death. 

On  April  20,  1875,  Shaftesbury  gave  notice  of  a  new 
bill  in  the  House  of  Lords,  and  a  month  later  spoke  on 
it.  He  says  :  "  Was  much  disheartened  at  outset.  House 
very  inattentive  —  had  twice  to  implore  their  condescen- 
sion to  hear  me.  At  last  they  listened,  and  so  far  as 
their  undemonstrative  natures  would  allow,  applauded 
me.  .  .  .  Yet  by  His  grace  I  have  stirred  the  country. 
The  Times  (may  the  paper  be  blessed)  has  assisted  me 
gloriously." 

The  bill  was  passed  that  session,  and  chimney-sweep- 
ing by  children  was  done  away.  For  thirty  years  the 
noble  Karl  had  plead  and  agonized  for  the  sufferers,  and 
at  last  the  work  was  accomplished. 

When  Sir  Robert  Peel  came  into  power,  in  1841,  he 
urged  Lord  Ashley  to  take  office,  first  in  the  royid 
household,  and  then  in  the  Cabinet,  but  he  declined 
both  offers.  Ashley  said  in  his  diary :  "  I  will  never 
place  myself  in  any  situation  where  I  shall  not  be  as 
free  as  air  to  do  everything  that  I  may  believe  to  be 
conducive  t  >  the  happiness,  comfort,  and  welfare  of  that 
portion  of   the  working-classes  who  have  so  long  and 


M, 


Art  .. 


150 


EARL   OF  SIIAFTKSJiUIiV. 


u 


!■■ 


!    il 


! 


1  it- 


confidingly  intrusted  to  me  the  care  of  their  hopes  and 
interests.  .  .  .  Teel  will  succumb  to  the  capitalists,  and 
reject  my  Factory  Bill.  No  human  power,  therefore, 
shall  induce  me  to  accept  ofiice.  1  will  surrender  inter- 
est and  ambition  to  the  cause;  1  will  persevere  in  it, 
God  helping  me,  through  storm  and  sunshine  ;  I  will 
commit  all  to  Christ,  and,  trusting  in  Him,  I  shall  never 
be  confounded." 

He  told  Peel,  "I  am  at  this  moment,  no  doubt  un- 
wittingly, the  representative  of  the  whole  aristocracy  in 
respect  of  the  operatives :  should  I  deceive  them,  they 
will  nevtjx  henceforward  believe  that  there  exists  a  single 
man  of  station  or  fortune  who  is  worthy  to  be  trusted." 

Mr.  Philip  Grant  says,  in  his  '•  History  of  Factory 
Legislation,"  "  The  sacrifice  thus  made  can  only  be  ap- 
preciated by  those  who  best  understood  the  })ecuniary 
position  of  this  noble-minded  man.  He  had  at  that 
time  a  large  and  increasing  family,  with  an  income  not 
equal  to  many  of  our  merchants'  and  bankers'  servants, 
and  a  position  as  the  future  representative  of  an  ancient 
and  aristocratic  family  to  maintain. 

"By  this  step,  political  power,  social  ties,  family  com- 
forts, nay,  everything  that  w\as  calculated  to  forward 
the  ease  and  comfort  of  himsLlf,  and  in  some  degree  of 
his  family,  were  laid  down  at  the  feet  of  the  factory 
children  of  these  districts,  and  freely  given  up,  for  the 
sake  of  the  sacred  cause  of  which  he  had  become  the 
leader." 

Lord  Ashley  took  an  active  part  in  discussions  on  the 
Tractarian  movement,  being  opposed  to  it.  German 
nationalism  had  come  into  English  thought ;  the  Chi;  jh 
of  England  had  become  cold  and  formal ;  and  .i  few  p  ar- 
sons at  Oxford  University,  like  tlu'  Rev.  E.  B.  Pusey  tiid 


EAIiL   OF  SIIAFTESBUHY. 


151 


the  Rev.  John  Henry  Newman,  desiring  a  deeper  piety 
in  the  country,  resolved  to  qnieken  the  Church.  ''  Tracts 
foi-  the  Times"  were  issued,  which  were  Ritualistic  or 
High  Church  in  their  tendency,  giving  emphasis  to  the 
doctrines  of  Apostolic  Succession,  Priestly  Absolution, 
Baptismal  Regeneration,  and  the  like.  Those  accepting 
these  views  were  termed  Tractarians.  No.  90  of  these 
tracts  gave  great  offence.  It  was  written  by  Newman, 
and  was  designed  to  show  that  much  Romish  doctrine 
could  be  lield  while  at  the  same  time  one  subscribed  to 
the  Thirty-nine  Articles.  The  discussion  led  to  the  res- 
ignation, by  Newman,  of  the  vicarage  of  St.  Mary's, 
Oxford,  and  to  his  going  into  the  Church  of  Rome,  in 
1845. 

In  1840  Lord  Ashley  had  asked  that  a  commission  be 
appointed  to  investigate  the  condition  of  factory  children 
besides  those  in  cotton-mills ;  also  children  in  mines 
and  collieries.  He  knew  that  some  of  the  lace-mills 
in  Nottingham  were  open  all  night,  and  children  were 
detoiiied,  to  be  ready  when  wanted.  They  lay  on  the 
floor,  exhausted,  waiting  for  their  turn  to  come.  In  the 
silk  manufactories,  little  girls  of  six  and  seven  were 
employed,  who  had  to  be  placed  on  stools  to  reach  their 
■work.  Children  worked  fifteen,  sixteen,  and  seventeen 
hours.  Their  constitutions  were  ruined,  and  they  became 
mothers  to  a  puny  race,  if  even  they  lived  to  mother- 
hood. 

Ashley  investigated  the  condition  of  children  em- 
ployed in  the  manufacture  of  earthenware,  in  pin  and 
needle  making,  iron-works,  glass-trade,  calico-printing, 
tobacco  warehouses,  button  factories,  bleaching  and  paper 
mills.  He  wrote  articles  in  the  reviews,  and  spoke  at 
large  meetings.     He  writes  sadly  in  his  journal:  "No 


f  - 


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IJ 


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1 

i 

|| 

J4. 

I  ^ 

152 


EARL   OF  SlIAFTEsllUliY. 


stir  as  yet  in  behalf  of  my  'ChiMron's  Employment 
Commi.ssi()n.'  I  cannot  discern  how,  humanly  speakin<;, 
I  have  ever  made  any  progress  at  all.  To  whom  should 
I  have  naturally  looked  for  the  (diief  aid  ?  Why,  un- 
doubtedly, to  the  clergy,  and  especially  those  of  the  trad- 
ing districts.  Quite  the  reverse.  .  .  .  There  are  grand 
and  blessed  exceptions,  thank  God  for  them  !  Bicker- 
steth  is  a  jewel,  —  a  *  jewel  of  the  first  water.'  .  .  .  And 
yet  we  have  in  our  churches  besides  prelates,  sixteen 
thousand  ordained  ministers  of  Christ's  Gospel." 

It  was  a  time  of  great  coldness  in  the  English  Cliurch, 
and,  besides,  the  clergy  did  not  like  to  array  themselves 
against  the  wealthy  mill-owners  of  their  congregations. 
It  requires  courage  and  self-sacritice  to  help  an  unpopu- 
lar cause. 

Ashley  made  his  tour  of  the  factories  practical.  In  a 
mill  at  Stockport,  a  young  woman  had  been  caught  in  the 
machinery,  and  whirled  round,  with  limbs  broken.  He 
prosecuted  the  mill-owners,  who  should  have  boxed  their 
machinery  to  prevent  accident,  and  they  were  made  to 
pay  one  hundred  pounds  to  the  injured  girl,  and  the 
expenses  on  both  sides,  amounting  to  six  hundred  pounds. 
What  wonder  that  England  was  astonished  at  such  an 
Earl ! 

The  commission  of  inquiry,  on  various  manufactures 
and  mines,  made  their  report  in  jMay,  1842.  England 
was  liorrilied.  Ashley  said  in  his  journal,  "Perhaps 
even  civilization  itself  never  exhibited  such  a  mass  of 
sin  and  cruelty.  The  disgust  felt  is  very  great,  thank 
God;  but  will  it  be  reduced  to  action  when  I  call  for  a 
remedy  ?  " 

It  was  shown  that  a  large  proportion  of  the  workers 
underground  were  less  than  thirteen  years  of  age.    About 


EARL  OF  sriAFTEsnunr. 


153 


Halifax,  cliildi 


jlit  to  the  pits  at 


liavii 


wore  l)r( 
been  taken  from  tlieir  beds  at  four  o'clock. 

"Near  Oldham,"  said  Asldey,  "children  are  worked  as 
low  as  four  years  old;  and  in  the  small  collieries  toward 
tlie  liills,  some  are  so  young  they  are  brought  to  work  in 
their  bed-gowns." 

The  first  employment  of  a  young  child,  says  Mr. 
Hodder,  was  that  of  a  "  trapper."  ''  Behind  eaeh  door, 
a  little  child,  or  trapper,  was  seated,  whose  duty  it  was, 
on  hearing  the  a})})roacli  of  a  whirly,  or  coal-carriage,  to 
pull  open  the  door,  and  shut  it  again  immediately  the 
whirly  had  passed.  From  the  time  the  first  coal  was 
brouglit  forward  in  the  morning,  until  the  last  wlnrly 
had  passed  at  night,  that  is  to  say  for  twelve  or  fourteen 
hours  a  day,  the  trapper  was  at  his  monotonous,  dead- 
ening work.  He  had  to  sit  alone  in  the  pitchy  darkness 
and  the  horrible  silence,  exposed  to  damp,  and  unable  to 
stir  for  more  than  a  dozen  paces  with  safety,  lest  he 
should  be  found  neglecting  his  duty,  and  suffer  accord- 
ingly. He  dared  not  go  to  sleep  —  the  punishment  was 
the  strrp,  applied  with  brutal  severity.  INIany  of  the 
mines  were  infested  with  rats,  mice,  beetles,  and  other 
vermin  ;  and  stories  are  told  of  rats  so  bold  that  tliey 
would  eat  the  horses'  food  in  the  presence  of  the  miners, 
and  have  been  known  to  run  off  with  the  lighted  candles 
in  tlieir  mouths  and  explode  the  gas." 

The  trappers,  as  they  grew  older,  were  passed  on  to 
other  employments.  "  '  Hurrying,'  that  is,  loading  small 
wagons,  called  corves,  with  coals,  and  pushing  them 
along  a  passage,  was  an  utterly  barbarous  labor  performed 
by  women  as  well  as  by  children.  They  had  to  crawl  on 
hands  and  knees,  and  draw  enormous  weights  along 
shafts  as  narrow  and  as  wet  as  common  sewers.     When 


II 


ip% 


Ill 


154 


EARL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


W 


'J 


1 

i 

i 

i     1 

1 

i  1 

i     i 

' 

-\ 

i 

i  ' 

1    . ! 

p 

_  1  :    ': 

the  passages  were  very  narrow,  and  not  more  than 
eigliteen  to  twenty-four  inches  in  height,  boys  and  girls 
performed  the  work  by  girdle  and  chain;  that  is  to  say, 
a  girdle  was  put  round  the  naked  waist,  to  which  a  chain 
frojn  the  carriage  was  hooked  and  passed  between  the 
legs,  and  crawling  on  hands  and  knees,  they  drew  the 
carriages  after  them.  It  is  not  necessary  to  describe 
how  the  sides  of  the  hurriers  were  blistered,  and  their 
ankles  strained,  how  their  V>n.cks  were  chafed  by  coming 
in  contact  with  the  roofs,  or  how  they  stumbled  in  the 
darkness,  and  choked  in  the  stifling  atmosphere.  It  is 
enough  to  say  that  they  were  obliged  to  do  the  work  of 
horses,  or  other  beasts  of  burden,  only  because  human 
flesh  and  blood  was  cheaper  in  some  cases,  and  horse 
labor  was  impossible  in  others. 

"'Coal  bearing' — carrying  on  their  backs,  on  un- 
railed  .-oads,  burdens  varying  from  half  a  hundredweiglit 
to  one  hundredweight  and  a  half  —  was  almost  always 
performed  by  girls  and  women,  and  it  was  a  common 
occurrence  fur  little  children  of  the  age  of  six  or  seven 
years  to  carry  burdens  of  coal  of  half  a  hundredweight 
up  steps  that,  in  the  aggregate,  equalled  an  ascent,  four- 
teen times  a  day,  to  the  summit  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral ! 
The  coal  was  carried  in  a  creel,  or  basket,  formed  to  the 
back,  the  tugs  or  straps  of  which  were  placed  over  the 
forehead,  and  the  body  had  to  be  bent  almost  double,  to 
prevent  the  •,  lals,  which  were  piled  high  on  to  the  neck, 
from  falling.  Sometimes  those  tugs  would  break  in  as- 
cending the  ladder,  and  the  consequences  would  always 
be  serious,  and  sometimes  fatal,  to  those  who  were  im- 
mediately following." 

Sometimes  the  children  worked  thirty-six  hours  con- 
tinuously.    They  never  saw  the  sun  except  on  Sunday. 


V-  .^4MWW 


EARL   OF  SlIAFTESliUItr. 


155 


i 


Their  food  was  of  the  poorest  kind,  and  eaten  irregu- 
Larly.  They  had  no  education,  and  were  beaten  and 
kicked  for  the  smallest  offences.  Children  of  eight 
stood  ankle  deep  in  water,  and  pumped  all  day  long. 
]\Iany  died  young.  At  tliirty,  most  became  asthmatic, 
and  rheumatism  was  almost  universal.  Men  and  chil- 
dren worked  often  in  nakedness,  and  women  and  girls 
wore  only  trousers  made  of  sacking.  The  "  truck  "  sys- 
tem prevailed,  whereby  wages  were  paid  in  "  orders  from 
stores,"  where  twenty-five  per  cent  was  charged  above 
the  usual  rates. 

Well  might  the  poor  thank  God  that  a  man  had  been 
raised  up  to  plead  their  cause  I  Well  might  England 
rejoice  that  one  man  was  finally  able  to  remove  from  her 
this  sin  and  shame  ! 

In  June,  1842,  Lord  Ashley  made  a  speech  in  Com- 
mons, "  so  powerful  that  it  not  only  thrilled  the  House, 
but  sent  a  shudder  through  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  land." 

He  records  in  his  diary,  June  9 :  "  On  the  7th  brought 
forward  my  motion.  The  success  has  been  wonderfal, 
yes,  really  wonderful :  for  two  hours  the  House  listened 
so  attentively  that  you  might  have  heard  a  pin  drop, 
broken  only  by  loud  and  repeated  marks  of  a})i)robation. 
At  the  close,  a  dozen  members  at  least  followed  in  suc- 
cession to  give  me  praise,  and  express  their  sense  of  the 
holy  cause.  ...  As  I  stood  at  the  table,  and  just  before 
I  opened  my  mouth,  the  words  of  God  came  forcibly  to 
my  mind  :  '  Only  be  strong  and  of  a  good  courage  '  — 
praised  be  His  holy  name.  I  was  as  easy  from  that 
moment  as  though  I  had  been  sitting  in  an  armchair. 
Many  men,  I  hear,  slied  tears  —  Beckett  Denison  con- 
fessed to  me  that  he  did,  and  that  he  left  the  House  lest 


m 
m 


ill 

■■.(. 


t 


156 


EARL  OF  SUAFTESIiURY, 


W 

if' 


I  1 


he  should  be  seen.  Sir  G.  Grey  told  William  Cowper 
that  he  '  would  rather  have  made  that  speech  than  any 
he  ever  heard.'  Even  Joseph  Hume  was  touched.  ISIem- 
bers  took  me  aside,  and  spoke  in  a  venj  serious  tone  of 
thanks  and  admiration.  I  must  and  will  sing  an  ever- 
lasting ^  non  nobis.'  " 

Richard  Cobden  came  over  to  Ashley,  and,  sitting 
down  beside  him,  shook  his  hand  heartily,  and  said, 
"  You  know  how  opposed  I  have  been  to  your  views  ; 
but  I  don't  think  I  have  ever  been  put  into  such  a 
frame  of  mind,  in  the  whole  course  of  my  life,  as  I  have 
been  by  your  speech." 

Prince  Albert  and  the  Queen  thanked  him,  and  espe- 
cially for  a  message  sent  to  Victoria  from  Isabel  Hogg, 
an  old  Scotchwoman.  "  Collier  people  suffer  much  more 
than  others,"  said  Isabel  Hogg.  "  You  must  just  tell 
the  Queen  Victoria  that  we  are  quiet,  loyal  subjects. 
Women-people  don't  mind  work  here,  but  they  object  to 
horse-wcrk ;  and  that  she  would  have  the  blessing  of  all 
the  Scotch  coal-women,  if  she  could  get  them  out  oi  .^^^9 
pits,  and  send  them  to  other  labor." 

Strongly  as  everybody  seemed  to  feel  about  the  Col- 
liery Bill,  it  was  delayed  and  amended  and  tliwarted 
in  all  ways.  A'^diley  says  in  his  diary,  July  8  :  "  Much, 
very  much  trouble,  to  find  a  peer  who  would  take  charge 
of  the  bill.  It  is  '  the  admiration  of  everybody,  but  the 
choice  of  none.'  So  often  refused,  that  I  felt  quite 
humbled;  I  was  a  wearisome  suitor  for  a  moment's 
countenance.  All  had  some  excuse  or  other;  praised  it, 
but  avoided  it.  .  .  . 

"July  26.  Bill  passed  through  Committee  last  night. 
In  this  work,  which  sliould  have  occupied  one  hour,  they 
spent  nearly  six,  and  left  it  far  worse  than  they  found 


It 

hi 
ij 
bl 


EARL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


157 


'  1? 


it;  never  have  I  seen  sucli  a  display  of  selfishness, 
frigidity  to  every  Imnian  sentiment,  such  ready  and 
liappy  self-delusion.  Three  bishops  only  present.  .  .  . 
Tlie  liishop  of  London  and  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury went  away  ! " 

At  lengtli  the  Colliery  Bill  was  passed,  and  Ashley 
writes  in  his  diary,  August  8  :  "  Took  the  sacrament  on 
Sunday  in  joyful  and  humble  thankfulness  to  Almiglity 
God,  for  tlie  undeserved  measure  of  success  with  which 
He  has  blessed  my  effort  for  the  glory  of  His  name,  and 
tlu3  welfare  of  His  creatures." 

Through  depression  in  trade,  in  1842,  there  was  great 
suffering  and  rebellion  among  the  poor.  In  Leeds,  one- 
fifth  of  the  population  were  dependent  upon  the  poor- 
rates.  Ten  thousand  persons  were  in  distress  in  Shef- 
field. Bread  riots  broke  out.  Mobs  paraded  the  streets 
by  day,  and  s''t  fires  by  night.  jNEany  were  arrested. 
In  one  jail  there  were  five  hundred  prisoners,  tried  by 
special  commissioners  appointed  by  government. 

Lord  Ashley  went  among  the  operatives,  and  spoke 
privately  and  publicly  against  a  spirit  of  lawlessness. 
The  Chartists  of  Leeds  said  to  liim,  "  Had  we  a  few 
more  to  speak  to  us  as  you  have  done,  we  should  never 
again  think  of  the  Charter." 

Ashley  said  to  the  people,  in  speaking  of  the  women 
who  had  taken  an  active  part  in  the  riots,  "Their  })res- 
ence,  nay,  more,  their  participation  in  the  riots,  has  read 
us  an  awful  lesson  :  for  when  the  women  of  a  country 
become  brutalized,  that  country  is  left  without  a  hope. 
T  speak  these  things  openly  and  witliout  fear,  because 
you  know  that  [  love  and  respect  you,  and  that  I  have 
ever  said,  as  I  conscientiously  believe,  that  the  working- 
(dasses  of  these  n^alms  ar(>  the  noblest  materials  in 
existence,  for  industry,  patriotism,  and  virtue," 


■ii  i' 


:!lt 


il 


il 


I 


r ; 


11         ! 


'■'■ 


I 

i 


168 


EAhL   OF  SIIAFTESnURT. 


In  1843  Lord  Ashley  made  a  powerful  speech  in  favoi 
of  education  among  the  factory  operatives.  Government 
brouo-ht  in  a  bill  which  provided  ti...'  each  school  be 
under  the  care  of  a  clergyman,  two  churcl" wardens,  and 
four  elective  trustees.  At  once  nearly  two  million  per. 
sons,  mostly  Dissenters,  protested  through  petitions, 
fearful  of  the  undue  influence  of  the  Church  of  England, 
and  the  bill  was  withdrawn. 

This  year,  1843,  Lord  Ashley  records  in  his  journal : 
"February  13.  On  Saturday  last  Samuel  Gurney  and  IVIr. 
Fry  (son  of  Elizabeth  Fry)  called  on  me  to  lay  the  state 
of  the  opium  trade  with  China  before  me,  and  request 
that  I  would  submit  it  to  Parliament,  as  a  great  qutotion 
of  national  morality  and  religion  I  agreed  in  aL  i.^ey 
said,  for  I  had  long  thought  and  felt  the  same." 

Before  1773  some  of  the  East  India  Company  had 
enriched  themselves  by  the  cultivation  and  sale  of 
opium.  From  the  first,  the  Chinese  opposed  the  impor- 
tation of  the  drug  into  their  country,  and  published 
edicts  against  it.  Finally,  the  Emperor  of  China  deter- 
mined to  put  a  stop  to  a  traffic  which  was  ruining  his 
subjects. 

"  Commissioner  Lin  came  to  Canton,  seized  twenty 
thousand  chests  of  the  smuggled  o})iuni,  worth  three 
millions  sterling,  and  had  it  all  destroyed.  England  now 
declared  war;  defeated  the  Chinese  in  spite  of  their 
gallant  resistance,  and  by  the  Treaty  of  Nankin,  in  1842, 
five  ports  were  thrown  open  to  the  Ih-itish  trade,  twenty- 
one  million  dollars  were  paid  by  China  as  a  war  indem- 
nity, and  as  compensation  for  the  destroyed  opium,  and 
Hong-Kong  became  a  British  possession." 

Justin  McCarthy  says,  in  his  ''History  of  Our  Own 
Times : "  "  The  Chinese  fought  very  bravely  in  a  great 


EARL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


150 


many  instcances  ;  and  they  showed  still  more  often  a 
Spartan-like  resolve  not  to  survive  defeat.  When  one 
of  tlie  Chinese  cities  was  taken  by  Sir  Hugh  Gough,  the 
Tartar  general  went  into  his  house  as  soon  as  he  saw 
that  all  was  lost,  madr-  his  servants  set  fire  to  the  build- 
ing, and  calmly  sat  in  his  chair  until  he  was  burned  to 
death."  One  of  the  English  officers  vv^-ites  of  the  same 
attack  that  it  was  impossible  to  compute  the  loss  of  the 
Chinese ;  '  for  when  they  found  they  could  stand  no 
longer  against  us,  they  cut  the  throats  of  their  wives 
and  children,  or  drove  them  into  the  wells  or  jtonds,  and 
then  destroyed  themselves.  In  many  houses  there  were 
from  eight  to  twelve  dead  bodies,  and  I  myself  saw  a 
dozen  women  and  children  drowning  themselves  in  a 
small  pond,  the  day  after  the  fight." 

Lord  Ashley  said,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  war,  "I 
rejoice  that  this  cruel  and  debasing  v/ar  is  terminated; 
but  I  cannot  rejoice,  —  it  may  be  unpatriotic,  it  may  be 
un-British,  1  cannot  rejoice  in  our  successes.  We  have 
triumpiied  in  one  of  the  most  lawless,  unnecessary,  and 
unfaii  struggles  in  the  records  of  history  ;  it  was  a  war 
on  which  good  men  could  not  invoke  the  favor  of 
Heaven,  and  Christians  have  shed  more  heathen  blood 
in  two  years  than  the  heathens  have  shed  of  Christian 
blood  in  two  centuries !  .  .  .  Tlie  peace,  too,  is  as 
wicked  as  the  war.  We  refuse,  even  now,  to  give  the 
Enijjcror  of  China  relief  in  the  matter  of  the  opium 
trade." 

April  4,  1843,  Lord  Ashley  moved  in  the  House  of 
Commons :  "  That  it  if,  the  opinion  of  this  House  that 
the  continuance  of  the  trade  in  opium,  and  the  monopoly 
of  its  growth  in  the  territories  of  British  India,  are  de- 
structive of  all  relations  of  amity  between  England  and 


y 


\4>i-l 


l\ 


«, 


lii 


Hi 


n 


I 


Jll  I 


Iti 


160 


EAUL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


China,  injurious  to  the  manufacturing  interests  of  the 
country,  by  the  very  serious  diminution  of  legitimate 
commerce,  and  utterly  inconsistent  with  the  honor  and 
duties  of  a  Christian  kingdom ;  and  that  steps  be  taken 
as  soon  as  possible,  with  due  regard  to  the  rights  of 
governments  and  individuals,  to  abolish  the  evil." 

Ashley  made  a  noble  and  important  speech,  which 
filled  seven  closely-printed  columns  of  the  Times  on  the 
following  morning.  He  showed  the  dreadful  effects  of 
the  use  of  opium  upon  the  Chinese  people,  producing  phys- 
ical, mental,  and  moral  decay ;  their  abject  slavery  to  the 
habit  when  once  fastened  upon  them  ;  told  the  pitiful 
story  of  how  the  traffic  had  been  forced  upon  the  na- 
tion at  the  point  of  the  sword,  for  the  sake  of  making 
England  rich ;  how  the  Baptist  Missionary  Society 
had  decided  to  work  through  the  agency  of  American 
missions,  sending  £500  for  the  spread  of  the  Gospel, 
because  public  feeling  in  China  was  so  stiong  against 
the  English.  "So,  sir,"  said  Ashley,  "it  has  come  to 
this,  that  England,  which  professes  to  be  av  the  head 
of  Christian  nations,  is  precluded,  by  her  own  immoral 
conduct,  from  sending  her  own  missionaries  to  that  part 
of  the  world  which  she  herself  has  opened  for  tlui 
advancement  of  civilization  and  the  enlightenment  ol 
Christianity." 

He  showed  that  "the  opium  was  grown  by  alvances 
from  the  Imperial  Government ;  carried  down  to  Cal- 
cutta, and  put  up  for  sale  under  government  niithority, 
shipped  in  opium  clippers  lying  in  the  river,  and  the 
clippers  supplied  with  arms  from  the  arsenals  of  the 
government." 

Ashley  demanded  that  Parliument  should  destroy  the 
monopoly  which  the  East  India  Company  [)0ssessed,  of 


EARL   OF  SlIAFrESnURY. 


161 


the  growth  and  manufacture  of  opium,  and  should  pro- 
hibit the  cultivation  of  the  drug  in  the  territories  of  the 
East  India  Company. 

The  Tunes  commended  Lord  Ashley's  arguments  as 
"  far  more  statesmanlike  "  than  those  who  opposed  him  .: 
who  virtually  said,  "  that  morality  and  religion,  and  the 
happiness  of  mankind,  and  friendly  relations  with  China, 
and  new  markets  for  Britisli  manufacturers,  were  all 
very  fine  things  in  their  way  ;  but  that  the  opium  trade 
was  worth  to  the  Indian  government  £1,200,000  a  year; 
and  £1,200,000  was  a  large  sum  of  money,  which  it 
would  not  be  easy  to  make  up  from  any  other  source, 
without  offending  somebody  in  India;  and,  upon  the 
whole,  that  we  could  not  afford  to  buy  morality  and 
religion,  and  the  happiness  of  mankind,  and  friendly 
relations  with  China,  and  new  markets  for  British  man- 
ufactures, quite  so  dear." 

For  forty  years  Lord  Ashley  opposed  the  iniquitous 
opium  trade,  and  it  is  not  yet  abolished. 

In  1843  Lord  Ashley  began  his  wonderful  work  in 
the  Ragged  Schools.  He  read  an  advertisement  in  the 
Times  concerning  the  Field  Lane  Ragged  School,  in 
connection  with  the  London  City  Mission,  asking  for 
teachers  and  pecuniary  a^d.  He  said,  "  I  never  read  an 
advertisement  with  keener  pleasure.  .  .  I  could  not  re- 
gard it  as  othpr  than  a  direct  answer  to  my  frequent 
prayer." 

Field  Lane,  not  far  northward  from  the  foot  of  Hol- 
born  Hill,  was  one  of  tho  worst  parts  of  London.  It  was 
full  of  trap-doors,  dark  closets,  and  other  conveniences 
for  hiding  stolen  goods,  and  n.  place  where  many  mur- 
dered persons  had  been  thrown  into  Fleet  Ditch.  These 
acts  became  so  frequent  and  alarming  that  government 


ii 


162 


EARL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


If 


.! 


Ill 


1      ' 

i:, 

i 

■M:i 

took  .he  r.:  vtev  in  charge,  ami  niiK'teen  persons  were 
p>eeuii:u  V.X  o.io  time,  for  crimes  committed  in  this 
loca^:t} . 

Charles.  Dick*  i.^  described  the  school  as  held  "in  a 
low-roofed  den,  in  a  sickening  atmosphere,  in  the  midst 
of  taint,  and  dirt,  and  pestilence  ;  with  all  the  deadly 
sins  let  loose,  howling  and  shrieking  at  the  doors." 

Lord  Ashley  at  once  visited  the  place,  met  the  teach- 
ers, talked  to  the  children,  entered  the  dens  of  vice,  and 
made  himself  the  friend  of  the  ontcasts  and  the  deserted. 

He  said  of  Field  Lane  School :  ''  I  have  there  seen 
men  of  forty  years  of  age  and  children  of  three  in  the 
same  room  —  men  the  wildest  and  most  uncouth,  whom 
it  was  considered  dangerous  to  meet ;  and  perhaps  it 
would  he  dangerous  to  meet  them  in  the  dark  alone, 
but  in  that  room  they  were  perfectly  safe.  I  saw  there 
thirty  or  forty  men,  none  of  them  with  shoes  or  stock- 
ings on,  and  some  without  shirts  — the  wildest  and  most 
awful  looking  men  you  can  imagine. 

"  They  all  sat  in  a  ring,  and  the  only  other  human 
being  in  the  room  was  a  young  woman  of  twenty-six  or 
twenty-seven  years  of  age.  ,  .  .  She  was  teaching  all  these 
wild,  rough,  uncouth  creatures,  who  never  bowed  the 
head  to  any  constable  or  any  form  of  civil  authority,  yet 
they  looked  on  her  with  a  degree  of  reverence  and  affec- 
tion that  amounted  almost  to  adoration.  I  was  greatly 
alarmed,  and  going  down-stairs,  and  meeting  the  super- 
intendent, I  said,  '  ]\Iy  good  fellow,  I  don't  like  this. 
There  she  is  among  ill  those  roughs  !  I  am  very  much 
alarmed.' 

"  '  So  am  I,'  he  said. 

"  '  Then  why  do  you  leave  her  there  ?  '  I  asked. 

"  He  replied  :  '  I  am  not  alarmed  from  the  same  reason 


EAIiL   OF  SUAFTESBURY. 


163 


that  you  are.  You  are  alarmed  lest  they  should  offer 
some  insult  to  her ;  but  what  I  am  afraid  of  is  this,  thiit 
some  day  a  man  might  drop  in  who,  not  knowing  the 
habits  of  the  i)lace,  might  lift  a  finger  r,  T«inst  her,  and  if 
he  did  so,  he  woidd  never  leave  the  rooia  ?  /^e  ;  he  would 
be  torn  limb  from  limb.'  " 

The  Ragged  Schools  were  soon  v  ..3u  under  the  name 
of  the  Ragged  School  Union,  and  of  ti.:s  oociety  Ashley 
was  the  active,  devoted  president  '   "  fovty  years. 

Day  and  night  he  searched  out  tiiese  wanderers,  as 
they  slept  under  arches,  or  crept  into  stables.  Two 
boys  slept  in  an  iron  roller  in  the  Park,  lie  sat  beside 
them  in  the  schools,  they  came  to  his  house  to  tell  their 
troubles,  he  pleaded  for  them  in  the  great  journals  of 
England,  he  interested  the  whole  country  in  their  wel- 
fare. In  the  Quarterlij  Review  he  told  how,  "  in  squalid 
and  half-naked  groups  they  squat  at  the  entrances  of 
the  narrow,  fetid  courts  and  alleys  that  lie  concealed 
behind  tlu^  deceptive  frontages  of  our  larger  thorough- 
fares. Whitechapel  and  Spitaltields  teem  with  them  like 
an  ant's  nest ;  but  it  is  in  Lambeth  and  in  Westminster 
that  we  find  the  most  flagrant  traces  of  their  swarm- 
ing activity.  There  the  foul  and  dismal  passages  are 
thronged  with  children  of  both  sexes,  and  of  every  age 
from  three  to  thirteen.  .  .  .  Their  appearance  is  wild : 
the  matted  hair,  the  disgusting  filth  that  renders  neces- 
sary a  closer  inspection  before  the  flesh  can  be  discerned 
between  the  rags  which  hang  about  it,  fill  the  mind  of 
a  novice  with  perplexity  and  dismay.  ... 

"Visit  these  regions  in  the  summer,  and  you  are  over- 
whelmed by  the  exhalations ;  visit  them  in  winter,  and 
you  are  shocked  by  the  spectacle  of  hundreds  shiverng 
in   apparel  that  would  be  scanty  in  the  tropics ;  many 


164 


EAHL   OF  SHAFTESnURY. 


B       i 

i      ';■ 

t-     ' 

L 1 ; 

li 

if 

1 

1 

i- 

il 

! 

are  all  but  naked;  tlioso  that  are  clothed  are  grotesque: 
the  trousers,  when  they  have  them,  seldom  pass  the 
knee;  the  tail-coats  very  frequently  trail  below  the 
heels. 

"  We  are  often  met  with  the  interrogatory :  '  What 
will  you  do  with  these  children  when  you  have  eduentcd 
them?'  Question  for  question:  'Wliat  will  you  do  witli 
them  if  you  neglect  to  educate  them?'  They  are  not 
soap-bubbles  nor  peach-blossoms, — things  that  can  be 
pu^ed  away  by  the  breath  of  a  Guekling ;  they  iire  the 
feeds  of  future  generations  ;  and  the  wheat  or  tares  will 
predominate,  as  Christian  principle  or  ignorant  selrish- 
ness  shall,  hereafter,  govern  our  conduct." 

To  the  last,  Lord  Ashley  was  the  beloved  friend  and 
helper  of  liagged  Schools.  Pie  arranged,  i)artly  tli rough 
the  help  of  government,  and  partly  by  means  of  his  own 
funds  and  those  of  friends,  to  send  thousands  of  these 
reformed  boys  and  girls  to  the  colonies,  particularly  to 
South  Australia.  They  were  delighted  at  the  chance  to 
begin  life  anew,  and  always  called  themselves,  in  their 
new  homes,  "  Lord  Ashley's  boys.'' 

The  following,  to  Lord  AsMey  and  a  friend,  from  two 
young  emigrants,  is  one  of  scores  of  letters  which  must 
have  touched  the  great  Earl's  heart :  — 

We  rite  these  few  lines  to  you  liopeing  that  yon  ar  in  good  hoahh 
as  we  ar  at  preasant  we  rite  to  you  to  let  you  no  that  the  nionney  and 
intrest  yon  have  taken  in  ns  to  is  the  means  of  making  us  hright 
men,  but  before  we  wos  a  pess  to  scity  and  more  so  to  Xewgate  the 
house  of  Correction,  for  J  B  ad  bin  in  gale  over  seven  times  on  sum- 
mery conviction  and  thre  times  for  a  trial  every  one  looked  on 
lis  theves  and  roges,  but  in  this  contry  respected  as  gentlemen 
when  we  think  of  the  harships  that  wlien  threw  her  it  makes  ns 
cry  kind  friends  do  send  Fred  field  and  let  im  come  to  us  I  ham 
sure  that  he  will  do  well  but  he  never  will  in  England,  for  his  char- 


tJAUL  OP  sriAFTEsnr'Rr. 


IGf) 


;> 


acter  is  to  fur  .,'orn,  so  Lady  ami  GenthMiian  try  to  sond  iin  to  us, 
and  ii  he  we  will  pay  ten  dolers  each  fore  him  to  come  to  us  so  has 
he  can  r»  jover  his  character  as  we  ave  done. 

No  more  at  preasant  from  your  thankful  and  ohedient  friend 

Joseph  Buady  and  Jamks  Way. 

Some  of  these  letters  Lord  Ashley  kept  in  a  little  box, 
so  precious  to  him,  that  he  always  carried  it  about  with 
liim  till  his  death. 

Great  uuiuuerL;  of  thf'sp  boys  were  placed  on  training- 
sliips,  and  educated  for  the  merchant  service.  Before 
this  time  many  in  the  navy  were  foreigners,  and  Shaftes- 
bury thouglit  England  should  man  her  own  ship>s. 

Prizes  were  given  to  the  Ragged  School  children,  when 
they  had  kept  a  position  for  a  year.  Tliey  were  encour- 
aged to  cultivate  flowers  and  plants,  by  shows  and  prizes. 
Many  of  the  flowers  were  tended  in  cellars  or  garrets, 
but  they  made  the  care-takers  more  refined  and  gentle. 
Some  of  the  jiowers  "  had  not  the  slightest  pretension  to 
beauty ;  some  appeared  to  have  had  a  terrible  struggle 
to  present  even  a  decent  appearance;  others  were  in  the 
last  stage  of  a  galloping  consumption.  Yet  all,  it  was 
reported,  had  been  tended  with  even  too  much  care, 
amidst  the  most  blighting  influences  and  untoward  cir- 
cumstances." 

At  one  of  their  flower  shows,  when  Ashley,  who  had 
become  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  was  passing  among  the  peo- 
ple, a  little  girl  took  his  hand,  and  looking  up  into  his 
face  said,  "  Please,  sir,  may  I  give  you  a  kiss  ?  "  —  'I 
am  sure  you  may,  my  dear,  and  PU  give  you  one  too." 

Wlien  Shaftesbury  was  sixty,  the  Ragged-School  teach- 
ers of  London  made  him  a  present  of  an  oil-painting 
illustrative  of  the  benefits  of  the  Sh-oe-Black  Moveiuent, 
which  he  had  helped  inaugurate.     It  was  accompanied 


I    < 


16G 


EAllL   OF  SirAFTESliUliY. 


U  ! 


i!|i 


ill! 


tj 


ill 


by  an  eleguiitly-bound  volume  containing  an  address, 
and  the  names  of  seventeen  hundred  subscribers,  "  all 
sorts  and  conditions  of  men." 

In  replying  to  the  address,  Lord  Shaftesbury  said  :  "  T 
would  rather  be  President  of  the  Kagged  School  Union 
than  have  the  command  of  armies,  or  wield  the  destinies 
of  empires.  That  volume,  with  its  valuable  collection  of 
signatures,  may  go  among  ancient  family  records,  and  it 
will  show  to  our  posterity  that  some  have  been  good 
enough  to  say  that  I  have  not  been  altogether  useless 
in  my  generation." 

Both  painting  and  volume  were  always  shown  with 
pride  to  visitors,  at  the  Shaftesbury  home. 

Good  George  Holland,  whose  Kagged  School  at  George 
Yard,  "Whitechapel,  is  to  me  one  of  the  most  interesting 
and  heart-touching  places  in  London,  tells  this  incident 
of  Lord  Shaftesbury.  ''  He  frequently  noticed  the  pallid 
faces  of  many  of  the  scholars.  Speaking  to  a  poor  boy 
one  winter's  day,  he  asked,  '  IVIy  man,  what  is  the  mat- 
ter with  you  ? '  The  boy  replied,  '  I  have  had  no  food 
for  some  time.' — '  How  long  have  you  been  v/ithout  ?  '  — 
*  About  twenty -six  hours.'  —  '  Twenty-six  hours,'  said  the 
Earl,  '  why,  you  must  be  fainting ;  no  wonder  you  look 
ill.'  —  '  Oh,  that's  nothing,' said  the  boy.  'I  have  gone 
without  two  days  afore  now.' 

"  That  day  the  Earl  spoke  to  all  the  children,  and 
many  were  without  necessary  food.  Going  to  a  little 
girl,  he  asked,  '  And  are  you  not  well,  my  dear  ? '  — '  I'se 
hungry,  I'se  cold,'  she  re})lied.  '  And  when  you  have 
food,  what  does  mother  give  you  ?  '  —  '  We  has  the  same 
as  mother ;  we  has  bread  and  water,  and  sometimes  a 
little  tea ;  but  mother  can't  always  afford  that.'  —  '  Poor 
child,'  said  the  Earl ;  '  why,  you  have  hardly  any  cloth- 
ing to  cover  you.' 


,■*— 


EAliL   OF  SlIAFTESIiUItV. 


107 


"  lie  left  tlio  scl.  »olrooiii,  and  entered  into  one  of  the 
small  rooms.  I'resently  I  followed.  I  observed  tears 
trickling  down  his  face.  'My  lord,'  I  said,  '  what  is  the 
niatt«'r?'  —  '  (leorge,  those  poor  children.  Poor,  dear 
children,  how  will  you  get  on  w'th  them?'  I  replied, 
'  My  God  shall  supply  all  their  need.'  —  '  Yes,'  he  said, 
*  He  will ;  they  must  have  food  directly.' 

"  He  left  the  building,  and  entering  his  brougham  or- 
dered the  coachman  to  drive  home.  A  few  hours  after, 
two  laige  churns  of  soup  were  sent  down,  enough  to  feed 
four  hundred.  This  continued  ;  and  that  winter  ten  thou- 
sand basins  of  soup  and  bread  were  distributed  to  hungry 
children  and  their  parents;  soup  made  iu  his  own  muu- 
sion  in  Grosvenor  Square." 

He  visited  constantly  among  the  poor;  carried  toys  to 
the  children  ;  read  to  the  sick  from  the  Bible ;  loaned 
money  till  wages  were  due  ;  gave  pictures  to  brighten 
desolate  homes ;  helped  persons  to  get  employment ; 
impoverished  himself  to  aid  the  needy. 

He  never  forgot  the  servants  of  his  own  household. 
The  woman  who  had  been  the  nurse  of  his  children,  and 
Jiousekeeper  for  over  fifty  years,  was  shaken  hands  with 
every  morning  after  family  prayers.  Not  one  of  the 
household  ever  thought  of  retiring  without  bidding  her 
good-night.  It  was  easy  to  tell  in  that  home,  a;s  in 
others,  the  good  breeding  of  the  inmates  by  theiv  luan- 
ners  to  their  help. 

If  Shaftesbury  loved  the  ragged  children,  they  idolized 
him  in  return.  He  always  slept  under  a  bed-cover  made 
of  little  bits  of  material,  with  a  big  letter  S  in  the  cen- 
tre, worked  by  the  boys.  They  had  given  it  to  him  for 
a  horse-cloth.  He  replied  on  taking  it,  "No,  my  lads; 
it  shall  cover  me  at  night  as  long  as  1  live."     lie  uaid 


!* 


>^ 


ii 


II 


r»..i 


1G8 


EAIiL   OF  SIIAFTESnURY. 


to  a  friend,  "  I  am  comfortable  under  it,  as  I  feel  near  to 
tho  poor  hoys.'" 

He  said,  "  I  believe  I  have  been  pretty  well  clothed  by 
day  and  by  n-ght  by  them.  I  have  had  all  sorts  of  things 
made  and  given  to  me ;  I  have  had  slippers  and  stock- 
ings ;  I  have  had  shoes  and  waistcoats,  and  bed-linen, 
too ;  coverlets,  counterpanes  —  well,  everything  but  a 
coat.  I  have  had  desks,  I  have  had  arm-chairs,  and  they 
gave  me  such  a  quantity  of  writing-paper — all  well 
stamped  —  that  I  assure  you  it  w^as  enough  for  all  my 
own  correspondence  for  six  months.  I  love  it,  however, 
because  it  has  been  all  called  forth  from  their  dear  little 
hearts,  and  I  prize  it  all  far  more  than  the  noblest 
present  that  could  be  given  me." 

He  said,  in  ISoO,  ''  If  my  life  should  be  prolonged  for 
another  year,  and  if,  during  that  year,  the  Eagged 
School  system  were  to  fall,  I  should  not  die  in  the 
course  of  nature,  I  should  die  of  a  broken  heart." 

The  parliaments  and  congresses  of  t))e  world-have  not 
many  such  members  as  the  Earl  of  Shaftesbury. 

Field  Lane  Ragged  School,  where  Lord  Ashley  first 
began  to  work,  soon  became  a  changed  place.  In  ten 
years  it  had  a  free  day  school  for  infants,  an  evening 
school  for  youths  and  adults,  a  wop-'an's  evening  school, 
industrial  classes  to  te;ich  tailoring  and  shoemaking, 
night  refuge  for  the  destitute,  a  clothing  society,  baths, 
a  distribution  of  bread  for  the  starving,  mothers'  meet- 
ings, Bible  classes,  and  a  Ragged  Church  ! 

No  v/onder  Lord  Ashley  wrote  in  his  journal :  "  Hur- 
ried beyond  all  precedejit ;  never  a  moment  to  myself. 
.  .  .  Home  at  seven,  very  tired.  I  often  think,  when 
fatigued,  how  much  h\ss  my  weariness  must  be  tlian 
that  of   the  wretched  factory  women.     It  has,  at  any 


EARL   OF  SIIAFTESnURV. 


1(39 


rate,  this  good  result  —  that  I  feel  and  make  additional 
resolutions  to  persevere  in  their  behalf." 

Lord  Ashley's  life  was,  in  many  respects,  a  hard  one. 
He  says  in  his  diary  :  "  The  League  (Corn  Law)  hate  me 
as  an  aristocrat ;  the  land-owners,  as  a  Kadical ;  the 
wealthy  of  all  opinions,  as  a  mover  of  inconvenient 
principles.  The  Tractarians  loathe  me  as  an  ultra-Prot- 
estant; the  Dissenters,  as  a  Churchman;  the  High 
Church  think  me  abominably  low  ;  the  Low  Church, 
some  degrees  too  high." 

He  was  eminently  practical  in  his  Christianity.  He 
was  once  asked  by  a  city  missionary,  Thomas  Jackson, 
known  as  the  Thieves'  jMissionary,  if  he  would  speak 
to  some  thieves.  Ashley  gladly  consented.  He  found 
four  hundred  thieves  gathered,  none  but  that  class  being 
admitted,  lest  the  company  be  reported  by  some  one  not 
a  "friend  "  of  the  order.  He  spoke  to  them  earnestly  of 
giv^ing  up  their  old  practices  and  beginning  a  new  life. 

"  But  how,"  said  one  of  the  men,  "  are  we  to  live  till 
our  next  meeting  ?     We  must  either  steal  or  die." 

Jackson  urged  them  "  to  pray,  as  God  could  help 
them."  One  of  the  thieves  rose  and  said,  "IMy  Lord 
and  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  prayer  is  very  good,  but  it 
won't  fill  an  empty  stomach ;  "  and  four  hundred  men 
responded,  "  Hear,  hear  !  " 

Lord  Ashley  knew  that  men  must  be  helped  bodily 
if  their  hearts  were  to  be  reached.  In  less  than  three 
months  so  effectually  had  he  labored  for  them  that  thir- 
teen men  were  in  Canada  starting  life  afresh,  and  a 
little  later  three  hundred  had  passed  into  honest 
employment. 

In  the  autumn  of  1843  Lord  Ashle}^  went  to  Germany 
and  Austria,  for  the  health  of  his  wife.     As  ever,  he 


IN.! 


.f^ 


'A  \ 


170 


EARL   OF  SllAFTEsnUltr. 


W^ 


M 


I 


visited  in  Prague,  Vienna,  and  elsewhere,  the  hospitals, 
asylums,  and  factories.  At  Ostend,  he  [jave  a  woman 
some  francs,  who  played  a  guitar  under  th'.'ii-  window. 
"  I  love  to  encourage  street  music,"  he  said  ;  ^'  it  pleases 
the  people  and  softens  them ;  indeed,  unless  they  get  it 
in  the  street,  they  get  it  nowhere." 

In  1844  the  first  Young  Men's  Christian  Association 
was  organized  in  London,  by  Mr.  George  Williams. 
Lord  Ashley  became  the  president,  and  continued  so 
until  his  death. 

The  same  year,  1844,  while  interested  in  various  mat- 
ters, such  as  the  establishment  of  the  Free  Church  in 
Scotland,  and  in  Free  Trade  debates,  he  made  another 
vigorous  campaign  for  a  "  Ten  Hours  Bill "  for  his  fac- 
tory people.  jNIeetings  were  held,  and  pamphlets  scat- 
tered. Twelve  persons  were  sent  to  London  to  help 
Lord  Ashley  in  dividing  the  city  into  districts,  and  can- 
vassing it  thoroughly  in  the  interests  of  the  working 
people.  On  March  lo  he  made  one  of  his  strongest 
speeches  in  Commons,  speaking  for  two  hours  and  a 
quarter.  He  asserted  that  the  State  has  a  right  to 
watch  over  and  provide  for  the  moral  a~id  physical  well- 
being  of  her  people.  He  showed  by  actual  measurement 
that  the  w^omen  and  children  had  "  to  walk  or  trot  from 
twenty-five  to  thirty  miles  a  day  "  at  their  machines  in 
the  factories. 

John  Bright,  himself  a  large  mill-owner,  violently 
opposed  the  Ten  Hours  Bill.  On  the  tenth  of  May,  Lord 
Ashley  spoke  again  in  Commons,  disproving  the  objec- 
tions urged,  — that  the  bill  would  cause  a  diminution  of 
produce,  a  fall  in  wages,  and  a  rise  of  price  by  foreign 
competition.  Ashley,  in  an  im})assioned  and  eloquent 
manner,  said:  ''The  feeling  of   the  country  is  roused; 


"""HBSsawBaresw' 


EAIiL   OF  SHAFTESBUnr. 


171 


and  as  lor.g  as  there  shall  be  voices  to  complain,  and 
hearts  to  sympathize,  you  will  have  neither  honor  a\)road 
nor  peace  at  home,  neither  comfort  for  the  present  nor 
security  for  the  future.  But  I  dare  to  hope  for  far 
better  things,  —  for  restored  affections,  for  renewed 
understanding  between  master  and  man,  for  combined 
and  general  efforts,  for  large  and  mutual  concessions  of 
all  classes  of  the  wealthy  for  the  benefit  of  the  common 
welfare,  and  especially  of  the  laboring  peoide. 

"  Sir,  it  may  not  be  given  to  me  to  pass  over  this 
Jordan  ;  other  and  better  men  have  preceded  me,  and  I 
entered  into  their  labors  ;  other  and  better  men  will 
follow  me,  and  enter  into  mine  ;  but  this  consolation  I 
shall  ever  continue  to  enjoy,  —  that,  amidst  much  injus- 
tice, and  somewhat  of  calumny,  -ve  have  at  last  lighted 
such  a  candle  in  England  as,  by  God's  blessing,  shall 
never  be  put  out." 

Mr.  (J.  C.  Greville,  in  his  "Journal  of  the  Reign  of 
Queen  Victoria,"  says  :  "I  never  remember  so  much  ex- 
citement as  has  been  caused  by  Ashley's  Ten  Hours 
Bill,  nor  a  more  curious  political  state  of  things,  such 
intermingling  of  parties,  such  a  confusion  of  opposition, 
...  so  much  zeal,  asperity,  and  animosity  ;  so  many 
reproaches  hurled  backwards  and  forwards.  .  .  .  Gov- 
ernment will  carry  their  bill  now,  and  Ashley  will  be 
able  to  do  nothing,  but  he  will  go  on  agitating  session 
after  session  ;  and  a  philanthropic  agitator  is  uuire  dan- 
gerous than  a  repealer  either  of  the  Union  or  the  Corn 
Laws.  We  are  just  now  overrun  with  philanthropy,  and 
God  knows  where  it  will  stop,  or  whither  it  will  lead 


us. 


V 


Lord  Ashley  had  been  asked  again  and  again,  "Where 
will  you  stop?"    and  he  had  always   answered,   "No- 


(i   i  il 

r1  I  !| 


l^ 


ii; 


li 


m 


M 


s 


172 


EARL   OF  SIIAFTESnuUr. 


wliere,  so  long  as  any  portion  of  this  mighty  evil 
remains  to  be  removed." 

Every  effort  was  made  to  silence  Lord  Ashley, 
l^ooks  were  written  to  disprove  his  statements.  A  book 
lies  before  me,  written  by  an  LL.D.  of  Trinity  College, 
Dublin,  to  show  that  factory  operatives  weie  happy  and 
contented.  ''In  one  house  I  noticed  a  large  sampler, 
elaborately  worked  ;  this  was  framed  and  hanging  over 
the  chimney-piece."  Samplers  are  not  always  an  indi- 
cation of  happiness.  The  author  says  of  the  Ten  Hours 
Bill,  "No  measure  more  likely  to  injure  the  operatives 
could  ever  have  been  devised  by  perverted  ingenuity." 
Strange  sympathy  with  labor  ! 

Lord  Ashley  had  to  combat  the  arguments  that  are 
used  even  to-day  by  legislators:  "that  child-labor  is 
necessary  for  tlie  sup})ort  of  many  parents  wlio  earn 
low  wau^es  and  would  otherwise  suffer."  Better  (n-'cn 
that  this  should  happen,  than  that  the  future  generation 
grow  up  in  ignorance,  or  with  broken  health,  unfitted 
for  good  citizenship.  In  a  society  where  starvation 
wages  are  permitted,  the  state  must  eventually  be 
injured  by  consequent  crime,  disease,  and  disloyalty. 

Richard  Cobden  well  said  of  child-labor :  "  In  my 
o[)inion,  and  I  hope  to  see  the  day  wlien  sucli  a  feeling 
is  universa],  7io  child  oiKjlif  to  he  put  to  tcork  In  a  cottiin- 
Vi'ill  at  all  so  early  as  the  aije  of  tlilrti'en  ;  and  after  that 
the  hours  should  be  moderate,  and  the  labor  light,  until 
rfuL'h  time  ;;s  tho  human  frame  is  rendered  by  nature 
capable  of  enduring  the  fatigues  of  adult  labor." 

Peel  wished  Ashley  to  accept  the  Lord  Lieutenancy  of 
h'^^l'ind  Ashley  said,  "  I  am  fnlhj  resolved  never  to  do 
^r 'Xcept  ani/thing  .  .  .  which  shall  in  the  least  degree 
limit  m.yop])ortunity  or  control  my  free  action  in  resjx'ct 
of  the  Ten  Hours  liill." 


EAEL   OF  SriAFTESBUllY. 


173 


In  1845  Asliley  obtained  the  passage  of  a  bill  in  the 
interest  of  children  in  calico  print-works,  —  children  who 
began  work  even  at  three  and  four  years  of  age,  and 
labored  from  sixteen  to  eighteen  hours  a  day.  In  the 
depths  of  winter,  the  mothers  ..light  be  seen  at  midnight 
taking  their  weeping  children  to  the  works.  In  184G  he 
resigned  his  seat  in  Parliament  on  the  repeal  of  the 
Corn  Laws.  He  had  been  elected  from  Dorset  as  a  Pro- 
tectionist, and  having  come  to  favor  Free  Trade,  he  felt 
that  he  could  no  longer  truly  represent  his  constituents. 

Mr.  John  Fielden,  the  member  from  Oldham,  took  up 
the  Ten  T  Tours  Bill,  after  Lord  Ashley  resigned,  and 
worked  for  it  most  earnestly.  Ashley  attended  meet- 
ings in  all  the  larger  towns,  using  every  effort  to  uphold 
jNFr.  Fielden.  In  June,  1817,  the  '•  Ten  Hours  lUU  was 
finally  carried,"  limiting  the  work  of  women  and  young 
persons  under  eighteen  to  ten  hour,^  day  nnd  eight  hours 
on  Saturday.  Out  of  nearly  six  h  dred  thousand  per- 
sons enqdoyed  in  textile  industri  nearly  four  hundred 
thousand  were  women  and  children,  directly  benefited 
by  the  Act.  Ashley  liad  labore(~  lourteen  years  almost 
incessantly,  and  "although  it  not  given  to  him  to 

pass  over  this  Jordan,"  but  to  I;.  Fielden,  he  was  none 
the  less  overwhelmed  with  joy  and  gratitude. 

He  and  ]Mr.  Fielden  were  »'v  'rywhere  greeted  with 
ovations.  ]\[edals  were  struck  in  commemoration  of  the 
event,  and  one  sent  to  the  Queen  by  the  operatives. 
Even  some  mill-owners  clasped  A  diley's  hand,  and  said, 
"  We  were  long  your  determined  opponents,  but  you 
have  carried  the  day.  And  now,  never  part  with  a  hair's- 
breadth  of  what  you  have  gained.  It  will  do  no  harm 
to  us,  and  it  will  do  great  good  to  the  people." 

The  evils  feared,  "foreign  competition,  loss  of  trade, 


11 


lij 


t:i: 


174 


EARL   OF  SHAFTESBURY, 


\i 


If' 


reduced  wages,  and  universal  distress,"  said  Ashley,  "  in 
time  were  answered  by  increased  production,  equal  prof- 
its, higher  wages,  and  universal  prosperity."  This  law 
was  changed  in  1850,  after  great  opposition,  to  ten  and 
a  half  hours  on  live  days  of  the  week  for  women  and 
young  persons,  and  on  Saturdays  no  work  for  them  after 
two. 

Lord  Ashley'?  influence  for  workingmen  has  been 
world-wide.  The  principle  of  State-care  has  been  so 
extended  that  now,  says  John  Morley  in  his  Life  of  Cob- 
den,  we  have  "  a  complete,  minute,  and  voluminous  code 
for  the  protection  of  labor;  buildings  must  be  kept  pure 
of  effluvia ;  dangerous  machinery  must  be  fenced ;  children 
and  young  persons  must  not  clean  it  while  in  .'notion ; 
their  hours  are  not  only  limited,  but  fixed;  continuous 
employment  must  not  exceed  a  given  number  of  hours, 
varying  with  the  trade,  but  prescribed  oy  the  law  in 
given  cases  ;  a  statutable  number  of  holidays  is  imposed ; 
the  children  must  go  to  school,  and  the  employer  must 
every  week  have  a  certificate  to  that  effect ;  .  .  .  for  the 
due  enforcement  and  vigilant  supervision  of  this  im- 
mense host  of  minute  prescriptions  there  is  an  immense 
host  of  inspectors,  certifying  surgeons,  and  other  autlior- 
ities  whose  business  it  is  'to  speed  and  post  o'er  land 
and  ocean '  in  restless  guardianship  of  every  kind  of 
labor,  from  that  of  the  v/oman  who  plaits  straw  at  her 
cottage  door,  to  the  miner  who  descends  into  the  bowels 
of  the  earth,  and  the  seaman  who  conveys  the  fruits 
and  materials  of  universal  industry  to  and  fro  between 
the  remotest  parts  of  the  globe." 

In  1859  four  thousand  persons  assembled  in  the  Free 
Trade  Hall  at  ]\Lanchester,  to  witness  the  presentation 
to  Emily,  the  Countess  of  Shaftesbury,  of  au  address  and 


i  II 


EAUL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


ITo 


a  marble  bust  of  her  husband,  "  by  the  operatives  of  the 
manufacturing  districts  of  the  North  of  Enghmd,  as  a 
token  of  esteem  and  regard  for  the  persevering  and  suc- 
cessful efforts  of  her  noble  husband  in  promoting,  by- 
legislative  enactment,  a  limitation  of  the  hours  of  labor 
of  children,  females,  and  young  persons  employed  in 
mills  and  factories."  The  cost  of  this  exquisite  ^vork  of 
art  was  defrayed  by  a  collection,  almost  entirely  in 
pence,  from  the  operatives. 

Requests  had  come  meantime  '"o  Lord  Ashley  from 
Bath  and  Oxford,  that  he  wouh;  represent  them  in  Par- 
liajnent.  He  was  elected  from  Bath  in  1847.  He  says 
in  his  journal :  "  I  did  not  ask  a  single  vote.  I  appeared 
but  once  in  Bach,  and  made  a  single  speech  before  the 
week  of  the  dissolution.  I  did  not  pay  a  single  farthing. 
I  had  not  an  inch  of  ribbon,  a  banner,  music,  or  a  pro- 
cession ;  not  a  penny  during  six  months  was  expended 
on  beer ;  nor  had  I  one  paid  agent ;  the  tradesmen  con- 
ducted the  whole,  and  with  singular  judgment  and 
concord.  This  is  a  model  for  elections,  and  heartily  ulo 
I  thank  God  that  tiie  precedent  has  been  set  in  my 
instance." 

In  1849  a  great  sorrow  came  to  Lord  Ashle}-,  in  the 
death  of  his  second  son,  Francis.  He  was  at  Harrow  at 
school,  a  lad  of  sixteen,  and  tenderly  beloved  by  teachers 
and  pupils,  for  his  bright  mind  and  generous  nature. 
The  last  of  May  he  took  a  severe  cold,  and  inflamma- 
tion followed.  When  told  that  the  end  was  near,  he 
called  his  father  to  his  bedside,  threw  his  arras  about 
his  neck,  kissed  him  a  long  time,  and  said,  "  I  want  to 
thank  you,  dearest  papa,  for  having  brought  me  up  as 
you  have  done,  —  for  having  brought  me  up  religiously. 
I  now  feel  all  the  comfort  of  it ;  it  is  to  you  I  owe  my 
salvation." 


176 


EARL   OF  SUAFTESIiURY. 


t  . 


Lord  Ashley  replied,  "No,  doarest  boy,  it  is  to  the 
grace  of  God."  —  "Yes,  it  is  true,"  said  Francis,  "but 
you  were  made  the  instrument  of  it." 

To  his  mother  he  said,  "  Oh,  mamma,  I  am  so  ashamed 
of  myself,  that  through  ray  ineaution  and  neglect  I  have 
exposed  you  to  this  heavy  expense !  .  .  .  I  shall  be  so 
happy  when  I  am  at  home,  and  under  your  care ;  and  1 
shall  see  all  the  dear  children,  and  then,  too,  I  shall  be  of 
such  use  to  papa." 

"  Blessed,  ever  blessed  boy  ! "  says  Lord  Ashley,  "  he 
was  thinking  of  my  letters  and  Ragged  Schools.  Was  he 
not,  indeed,  of  use  to  me  ?  How  many  delightful,  use- 
ful hours  have  I  passed  in  his  dear  society ;  he  was  my 
companion,  my  coadjutor,  nay,  half  my  very  soul ;  the 
precious  boy  helped  me  more  tha'^  thousands  of  wealthy, 
idle,  powerful  adults." 

He  was  buried  in  Harrow  churchyard.  "  Two  objects 
are  constantly  by  day  and  by  night  before  my  eyes," 
wrote  his  father :  "  I  see  him  dying,  and  I  see  his  coffin 
at  the  bottom  of  the  grave.  They  alternate  the  one  with 
the  other;  and  the  flesh,  do  what  I  will,  predominates. 
Then  come  to  my  relief  his  dear  and  precious  words, 
that  God's  mercy  sent  for  my  consolation."  Nearly  forty 
years  afterwards,  Lord  Ashley  said  no  day  passed  with- 
out some  memory  of  his  beloved  son. 

In  1851  Lord  Ashley  accepted  the  presidency  of  the 
lU'itish  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  which  he  held  till  his 
death.  This  year  the  father  of  Lord  Ashley  died,  and 
he  became  the  seventh  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  the  possessor 
of  St.  Giles's  House,  and  a  member  of  the  House  of 
Lords. 

His  first  speech  in  the  House  of  Lords  was  on  a  bill 
providing  for  the  "Inspection  and  Registration  of  Lodg- 


SAUL   O:-^  SlIAFTESliURY. 


177 


ing  Mouses."  He  had  always  been  deeply  interested  in 
the  housiug  of  the  poor.  Througli  his  influence,  Trince 
Albert  had  visited  with  him  the  croxv'ded  and  filthy  tene- 
ment houses,  and  the  Prince  had  become  the  president  of 
the  "Society  for  Improving  the  Condition  of  the  Laboring 
Classes." 

By  voice  and  pen  Lord  Ashley,  now  Lord  Shaftesbury, 
had  told  the  people  of  England  how  the  poor  lived, 
herded  together.  "  IVLany  a  dwelling  wholly  destitute 
of  furniture ;  many  contain  nothing  except  a  table  and  a 
chair ;  some  few  have  a  common  bed  for  all  ages  and 
both  sexes;  but  a  large  proportion  of  tlie  denizens  of 
those  regions  lie  on  a  heap  of  rags  more  nasty  than  the 
floor  itself." 

In  Church  Lane,  Bloomsbury,  three  families  of  twenty- 
two  persons  lived  in  two  rooms,  and  there  were  hun- 
d^fids  of  such  places. 

In  fourteen  houses  in  Wild  Court,  nearly  one  tiiou- 
sand  persons  found  shelter,  many  sleeping  each  night 
on  the  staircases. 

The  bill  became  law.  Charles  Dickens  said  to  Lord 
Shaftesbury  some  years  afterwards,  "  It  is  the  best  law 
that  was  ever  passed  by  an  English  Parliament." 

As  long  as  I'o  lived,  he  made  a  continued  study  of 
model  dwellings  for  the  laborers.  In  1872  he  laid  tlie 
first  memorial  stone  of  a  workman's  city  at  Battersea, 
near  Clapham  Junction  Station,  named  the  Shaftesbury 
Park  Estate,  in  his  honor.  The  scheme  was  carried  out 
by  the  "  Artisans,  Laborers,  and  General  Dwellings  Com- 
pany." The  streets  are  macadamized  and  shaded  with 
trees ;  the  houses  are  of  stone  and  brick,  each  with  a 
garden  in  front,  a  large  yard  in  the  rear,  and  plenty  of 
flowers.     Six  thousand   persons  live  here,  and  as  soon 


178 


EARL   OF  SlfAFTESnURY. 


ill 


Ml 


r 


as  one  tenant  moves,  scores  are  ready  to  take  his 
place. 

Some  of  the  houses  are  sokl  by  weekly  instalments, 
and  some  are  rented  at  one  dollar  and  twenty-tive  cents 
to  two  or  three  dt)lhirs  a  week.  The  place  has  a  library 
and  imblic  wash-houses,  but  no  saloon  is  permitted. 

He  believed  great  good  would  result  to  crowded  cities 
i'min  tliese  suburban  dwellings  for  laborers.  One  of  his 
last  acts  was  to  beseech  the  Great  Northern  Railway  to 
arrange  such  times  and  fares  ab  v.'ould  allow  workingmen 
to  go  easily  and  cheajdy  to  their  suburban  homes. 

Lord  Sluit'tesbury  now  turned  his  attention  to  the  cot- 
tages on  the  St.  Giles's  estate.  The  sixth  Earl  had  long 
been  at  enmity  with  his  son  because  the  latter,  he  said, 
''had  caused  disaffection  among  the  poor.''  Lord  Ashley 
had  been  taunted  with  the  wretched  condition  of  his 
father's  cottagers,  but  he  could  do  nothing  till  death 
removed  him. 

"  Inspected  a  few  cottages,"  he  writes  in  his  diary,  — 
"filthy,  close,  indecent,  unwholesome.  But  what  can  I 
do  ?  I  am  half  pauperized ;  the  debts  are  endless ;  no 
money  is  payable  for  a  whole  year.  Every  sixpence  I 
expend  —  and  spend  I  must  on  many  things  —  is  bor- 
rowed. .  .  .  Oh,  if  instead  of  one  hundred  thousand 
pounds  to  pay  in  debt,  I  had  tliat  sum  to  expend, 
what  good  1  might  do  !  But  it  has  pleased  God  other- 
wise." 

He  discovered  that  his  farmers  were  cheating  their 
workmen  by  charging  above  market  price,  and  this  he 
stopped  at  once.  He  borrowed  money  and  improved  the 
cottages.  He  started  evening  classes  for  young  men, 
and  cricket  clubs  in  the  summer.  He  found  some  years 
later  that  his  steward  had  defrauded  him  of  over  twelve 


EAIiL  OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


170 


thousand  pounds,  thus  increasing  his  debts,  but  these 
Lord  Shaftesbury  paid  after  years  of  self-sacrifice. 

In  1854  Lord  Aberdeen,  the  rreniier,  wished  to  bestow 
on  Shaftesbury  the  Order  of  the  Garter.  "  from  a  desire 
to  mark  my  admiration  of  your  unwearied  exertions  in 
the  cause  of  humanity,  and  of  social  improvement," 
wrote  Aberdeen. 

Shaftesbury  felt  obliged  to  decline.  He  says  in  his 
journal,  "  jSlinny  wants  me  to  accejjt  it,  'as  a  just 
acknowledgment,'  so  she  says,  'of  my  deserts.'  I  am 
unwilling  to  do  so,  lest  it  should  be  considered  a  pay- 
ment of  them,  and  I  be  told,  hereafter,  either  that  I  was 
never  disinterested  in  my  labors,  or,  when  I  appeal  to 
GovernnuMit  for  aid  in  my  projects,  that  they  have  done 
enough  to  oblige  me,  and  that  they  can  do  no  more. 

"  I  do  not,  myself,  care  about  the  thing  the  least  in 
the  world ;  and  I  do  not  see  that  it  would  be  advisable 
to  take  a  step  by  which  nothing  can  be  gained  and  some- 
thing may  be  lost."  Notwithstanding  his  indifference 
to  the  honor,  he  became  a  Knight  of  the  Garter  in  18G1, 
at  the  recpiest  of  Palmerston. 

In  1854  the  Crimean  War  began.  The  winter  in  the 
camp  before  Sevastopol,  in  the  harbor  of  Baiaklava, 
and  in  the  hospitals  of  Scutari,  brought  disease  and  death 
to  thousands.  "The  noblest  army  England  ever  sent 
from  these  shores,"  said  the  Times,  "  has  been  sacrilloed 
to  the  grossest  mismanagement." 

A  Sanitary  Commission  in  the  East  w^as  proposed  by 
Lord  Shaftesbury,  and  at  once  acted  upon,  he  writing 
out  minute  instructions  for  the  commissioners  w^ho  were 
appointed  to  the  work  in  the  Crimea.  "That  Commis- 
sion," Florence  Nightingale  wrote  to  Lord  Shaftesbury, 
"saved  the  British  army." 


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EAliL   OF  SIIAFTESIiUliY. 


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Pi' 

III! 


l?alinerston,  who  liad  iiicarried  the  mother  of  Lady 
Shaftesbury  in  1839,  after  Lord  Cowper's  death,  had  be- 
come Prime  Minister.  He  and  liis  son-in-law  had  been 
thrown  much  together,  and  had  been  warm  friends  for 
years.  He  offered  Shaftesbury  the  Duchy  of  Lancaster, 
with  a  seat  in  the  Cabinet,  but  it  was  declined. 

This  year,  1855,  Lord  Sliaftesbury  buried  another  son, 
Maurice,  who  liad  been  for  several  years  an  invalid.  "  1 
have  lost  two  precious  sons  for  the  short  time  of  human 
life,"  he  said,  "  but  I  have,  by  the  love  of  Christ,  housed 
them  forever  in  heaven." 

This  year  he  was  active  about  the  "  Eeligious  Worship 
Bill,"  and  one  in  behalf  of  milliners  and  dressmakers, 
prohibiting  w^ork  between  ten  p.m.  and  eight  a.m.  in 
summer,  and  nine  r.M.  and  eiglit  a.m.  in  winter.  Their 
days  of  work  had  been  from  fifteen  to  eighteen  hours  in 
lengtli,  with  only  from  two  to  six  hours  for  rest. 

Througli  tlie  ten  years  of  Lord  Palmerston's  Premier- 
ship, 1855-18G5,  Shaftesbury's  influence  was  very  appar- 
ent. He  became  known  as  the  "  Bishop-maker,"  from  liis 
suggestions  as  to  the  proper  men  for  bishops.  "Balm- 
erston  does  not  know,  in  theology,"  said  Shaftesbury, 
"  Moses  from  Sydney  Smith.  The  vicar  of  Komsey, 
where  he  goes  to  cliurch,  is  the  only  clergyman  he  ever 
spoke  to;  and  as  for  the  wants,  the  feelings,  the  views, 
the  hopes  and  fears  of  the  country,  and  particularly  tin; 
religious  part  of  it,  they  are  as  strange  to  him  as  the 
interior  of  Japan." 

Palmerston  had  at  his  disposal  twenty-five  mitres, 
and  ten  deaneries,  including  three  English  archbishop- 
rics and  two  Irish,  sixteen  English  and  four  Irish  bisli- 
oprics. 

Palmerston's   death   in   1805   was    a    great    blow   to 


EAIiL   OF  SUAFTESBUnr. 


181 


Shaftesbury.  He  stood  by  his  bedside  and  prayed  over 
hiiii  in  departing.  "  It  is  a  change  and  a  gap  to  ]Minny," 
lie  wrote  in  his  diary.  "  He  tenderly  loved  and  admired 
her,  and  said  as  she  entered  the  room,  not  many  days 
before  his  death,  'Mimiy,  come  in,  come  in;  you  always 
seem  to  me  like  a  sunbeam.'  .  .  .  Ah,  but  to  none  will 
the  loss  be  as  it  is  to  myself.  I  lose  a  man,  avIio,  I  know, 
esteemed  and  loved  me  far  beyond  every  other  man  liv- 
ing. He  showed  it  in  every  action  of  his  heart,  in  every 
expression  of  his  lips,  in  private  and  in  public,  as  a  man, 
as  a  relative,  and  as  a  minister.  A  great  and  mighty 
door  for  good  is  now  closed  upon  me,  so  far  as  I  can  see, 
forever.  .  .  .  He  listened  at  once  to  my  earnest  counsel 
to  give  baronetcies  to  Baxter  of  Dundee,  and  Crossley 
of  Halifax,  in  acknowledgment  of  their  princely  gener- 
osity to  the  people." 

During  these  years  Shaftesbury  had  been  helping  for- 
ward whatever  was  good.  He  had  been  the  earnest  friend 
of  Garibaldi  and  Count  Cavour.  He  moved  all  English 
hearts  for  suffering  Poland,  by  his  pen  and  his  speeches. 
He  had  been  the  ardent  friend  of  the  North  in  the  Civil 
War,  largely  because  he  abhorred  slavery.  He  wrote  to 
the  Times  at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  that  "the  triumph 
of  tiie  South  meant  the  consolidation  of  slavery,  and  his 
sympathies  were,  therefore,  wholly  for  the  North."  He 
welcomed  jNIrs.  Stowe  and  Sumner  to  his  heart  and  home. 

He  said,  "  All  my  life  long  I  have  wished  and  prayed 
for  peace  and  friendship  wdtli  the  United  States." 
When  Gartield  died,  he  wrote  to  James  Russell  Lowell, 
"  It  is  a  loss  to  all  the  human  race,  not  only  to  America 
and  to  the  British  Empire." 

Lord  Shaftesbury  was  always  most  cordial  to  Ameri- 
cans, his  grave,  kindly  face  growing  more  kindly  still  as 


i 


h 


I 


:  i  :      ; 


\:l    :  '    i 


1  i 


t  [ '' 


182 


EA  IlL   OF  SJL I FTKSll  Ull  Y. 


lie  talked  with  one.  lie  was  very  modest  in  manner, 
though  self-possessed ;  easily  approached,  with  none  of 
t  le  stiffness  one  finds  in  pretentious  people ;  natural  in 
0'  iiversation ;  courteous  in  listening,  and  friendly  as  be- 
hooves one  who  loves  humanity.  Whether  one  met 
him  and  his  daughters  in  noble  George  Holland's  Kagged 
School,  or  in  a  London  drawing-room,  —  I  am  thankful 
to  have  seen  him  in  both,  —  he  was  ever  the  same  refined, 
agreeable,  grand-hearted  gentleman. 

A  third  child,  his  beloved  Mary,  had  died  of  consump- 
tion in  18G1.  In  1865  his  mother  died.  In  180G  Shaftes- 
bury was  urged  by  the  Earl  of  Derby,  the  Premier,  to 
take  the  Duchy  of  Lancaster,  the  Home  Office,  or  the 
Presidentship  of  the  Council.  He  declined  the  honor, 
saying,  "  I  should,  in  fact,  withdraw  myself  from  the 
many  and  various  pursuits  which  have  occupied  a  very 
large  portion  of  my  life ;  and  which,  so  far  from  abate- 
ment as  I  grow  older,  appear  to  increase  in  number  and 
force,  there  remaining  yet  fourteen  hundred  thousand 
women,  children,  and  young  persons  to  be  brought  under 
the  protection  of  the  Factory  Acts." 

He  opposed  uhe  lleform  Bill  of  18G7,  with  its  exten- 
sion of  suffrage,  believing  that  the  elective  franchise 
should  be  a  revrard  of  "  thrift,  honesty,  and  industry,'' 
and  not  a  right.  He  believed  that  the  lodger  franchise 
and  household  suffrage  tended  to  the  establishment  of 
democracy. 

An  ardent  Protestant,  he  always  felt  the  deepest  inter- 
est in  Ireland.  "I  never  can  speak  of  that  country,"  he 
said,  "without  shame  and  remorse.  Centuries  of  mis- 
government  and  neglect  have  brought  that  island  into 
the  condition  it  is  now  in." 

He  opposed  the  revision  of  the  l)ible,  and,  with  tens  of 


EARL   OF  SlJAFTESBUliY. 


183 


thousands  of  others,  rejoiced,  that  the  new  version  has 
never  come  into  general  use.  He  said  of  our  Authorized 
Version,  "  I  love  intensely  its  rich,  melodious,  and  heart- 
moving  language.  It  is  like  the  music  of  Handel,  and 
carries  Divine  truth  and  comfort  to  the  inmost  soul." 
He  opposed  "  secular  "  education,  and  protested  against 
the  exclusion  of  the  Bible  from  the  schools. 

In  1871  he  obtained  legislation  in  favor  of  the  thirty 
thousand  children  and  young  persons  who  worked  in 
brickyards.  He  went  to  the  brickfiekls.  "  I  saw  little 
cliildren,"  he  said  in  the  House  of  Lords,  ''  three  parts 
naked,  tottering  under  the  weight  of  wet  clay,  some  of 
it  on  their  heads,  and  some  on  their  slioulders ;  and 
little  girls  with  large  masses  of  wet,  cold,  and  drip- 
ping clay  pressing  on  their  abdomens.  ^Moreover,  the 
unhappy  children  were  exposed  to  the  most  sudden  tran- 
sitions of  heat  and  cold;  for,  after  carrying  their  bur- 
dens of  wet  clay,  they  had  to  endure  the  heat  of  the  kiln, 
and  to  enter  places  where  the  heat  was  so  fierce  that  I 
was  not  myself  able  to  remain  more  than  two  or  three 
minutes." 

The  year  1872  was  to  try  Lord  Shaftesbury  as  he  had 
never  been  tried.  June  10  he  writes  in  his  diary  :  "  To- 
day my  wedding-day.  Forty -one  years  ago  was  I  united 
to  that  dear,  beautiful,  true,  and  affectionate  darling,  my 
blessed  Minny.  What  a  faithful,  devoted,  single-hearted 
and  captivating  wife  she  has  been,  and  is,  to  me !  And 
what  a  mother  !  " 

She  had  gone  to  Mentone  with  her  daughter  Constance, 
who  was  fading  out  of  life.  On  their  return  they  went 
to  ]\Ialvern,  where  Lady  Shaftesbury  became  ill  from 
constant  care  and  watching.  She  returned  to  London, 
and  seemed  to  rally,  but  she  died  at  midnight,  October 


•I, 


184 


EARL   OF  SltAFTESnURY. 


\.  '< 


i  1 


I 


14,  almost  her  last  words  being,  "None  but  Christ,  none 
but  Christ."  She  was  buried  in  the  little  village  church 
of  Wiinborne  St.  Giles.  On  the  simple  tablet  one  may 
read :  "  To  the  memory  of  a  wife,  as  good,  as  true,  and  as 
deeply  beloved,  as  God,  in  His  undeserved  mercy,  ever 
gave  to  man." 

•'  I  am  astounded  and  dazed,"  wrote  Lord  Shaftesbury 
to  a  friend,  "  to  find  myself  without  her.  She  was  my 
earthly  mainstay,  and  cheered  almost  every  moment  of 
my  existence  by  the  wonderful  combination  of  truth, 
simplicity,  joyousness  of  heart,  and  purity  of  spirit.  .  .  . 
During  the  long  space  of  forty  years  that  God,  in  His 
special  and  undeserved  mercy,  allowed  me  to  live  in 
union  with  that  inestimable  woman,  there  was  an  in- 
crease and  no  abatement  of  love  on  either  side." 

A  year  later  he  wrote :  "  Her  loss  is  more  and  more 
keen  every  day.  God  alone  knows  what  I  feel  and  suf- 
fer. .  .  .  Shall  I  never  see  her  again,  0  Lord,  that  sweet- 
est, dearest,  most  precious  of  women  ?  Surely  there  will 
be  recognition  ;  surely  a  reunion  of  love.  .  .  .  Perhaps 
she  and  my  darling  Conty  are  much  nearer  than  I  sup- 
pose. Perhaps  they  see  me,  watch  over  me,  and  pray 
for  me." 

Two  years  later  he  wrote:  "St.  Giles.  Evelyn  [his 
son]  is  come  here  safe  and  sound.  The  bells  are  ringing 
joyfully,  but  she,  my  beloved  one,  who  lies  beneath  them, 
hears  them  not.  How  glad  would  her  dear  heart  have 
been  in  the  success  of  her  sympathizing  son  !"  Evelyn, 
like  his  older  brother  Antony,  had  been  chosen  a  member 
of  Parliament. 

Six  years  later  he  wrote  in  his  journal :  "  The  day 
before  her  death,  even  in  her  old  age,  she  seemed  to  me 
as  beautiful  as  the  day  on   which  1  married  her.  .  .  . 


ml 


EARL   OF  SnAFTESUURr. 


185 


Why  was  she  taken  away  ?  God,  in  His  wisdom,  ahnio 
can  know.  The  loss  (I  speak  as  a  man)  is  beyond  all 
power  of  language  to  express.  O  God !  Thou  only 
knowest  the  severity  of  the  stroke ;  and  how  she  was  to 
nie  a  security  and  a  refuge." 

A  month  later  Lord  Shaftesbury  took  his  daughter 
Constance  again  to  Mentone,  by  the  advice  of  physir 
cians.  He  wrote  in  his  journal;  "Journey  very  tedious 
and  very  sorrowful.  I  could  admire  nothing,  enjoy 
nothing,  for  she  was  not  here  to  share  it  with  me." 

"  December  12.  How  wonderful,  and  how  solitary,  as 
I  look  at  the  setting  sun,  and  remember  that  my  ^Nlin, 
my  precious  ]\[in,  is  gone  from  me  —  never  to  return  I" 

'•  December  IG.  At  half-})ast  one  this  day  God  took 
the  soul  of  my  blessed  Conty  to  Himself.  .  .  .  Heaven 
itself  seemed  opened  before  her  eyes.  'Christ  is  very 
near  me,'  she  said;  and  when  I  reminded  her  of  her 
mother's  favorite  line,  '  Simjdy  to  Thy  cross  I  cling,'  she 
expanded  her  hands,  her  whole  face  beamed  with  the 
loveliest  and  happiest  smile  I  ever  saw,  and  she  inclined 
her  head  towards  me  in  assent  quite  exulting.  .  .  .  Half 
an  hour  or  more  before  her  death  she  became  suddenly 
quite  herself,  as  in  days  of  strength  and  joy.  She  sat 
up  in  bed,  her  face  was  radiant  with  inward  pleasure, 
she  spoke  to  every  one  around.  .  .  .  Soon  after  she  ex- 
claimed, 'T  know  tha'j  I  am  going  to  die,  for  I  feel  so 
happy.'  With  these  words  she  fell  into  a  soft  sleep. 
In  a  short  time  she  was  gone,  and  no  one  could  mark 
the  moment  of  departure.  .  .  .  AVas  her  blessed  mother 
there  ?  Was  our  own  most  dear  Lord  far  off  ?  She 
said,  'Christ  is  very  near;'  she  must,  I  think,  have 
perceived  something  that  we  did  not." 

Lord  Shaftesbury  worked  harder  than  ever,  now  that 


<  ii 


f     '-^i 


f  ■ . 


m 


If 


186 


EAliL  OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


death  had  taken  so  much  of  the  cheer  out  of  his  life, 
and  lie  knew  that  the  time  was  short.  He  established, 
in  connection  with  the  "Water-cress  and  Flower  Girls' 
Mission,"  a  fund  in  memory  of  his  wife,  the  •'  Emily 
Loan  Fund."  When  flowers  are  out  of  season,  these 
girls  and  women  earn  a  miserable  living.  One  girl 
would  loan  a  baked-potato  oven,  a  coffee-stall,  or  a  board 
for  the  sale  of  whelks.  When  the  actual  value  of  the 
article  was  repaid,  it  became  the  property  of  the  hirer. 
Out  of  a  thousand  loans  the  society  did  not  lose  fifty 
pounds,  so  honest  were  these  poor  workers. 

In  the  House  of  Lords,  and  on  the  platform,  he  spoke 
against  vivisection.  He  wrote  prefaces  for  a  Life  of 
Luther, ''  Uncle  Tom,"  Miss  Cotton's  "  Our  Coffee-Room," 
and  other  books  that  helped  the  world  onward  for  good. 
He  opposed  the  Afghan  war  as  "  arbitrary  and  need- 
less." He  opposed  the  Queen  taking  the  title  of  "  Em- 
press of  India."  He  had  ascertained  that  among  the 
working-people  the  universal  feeling  was  one  of  repug- 
nance. He  said  to  the  Lords,  in  the  course  of  his  speech 
against  it,  that  it  would  not  be  surprising  for  these 
people  one  day  to  say,  when  wages  were  low  and  there 
was  discontent,  "  You  are  trying  to  turn  your  king  into 
an  emperor ;  we  also  shall  make  an  effort  to  turn  him 
into  a  i)resident." 

He  obtained  the  passage  of  a  bill  to  regulate  the  labor 
of  the  women  and  children  in  India,  "  a  system,"  he  said, 
"as  barbarous  as  that  which  formerly  existed  in  Eng- 
land." It  has  not  been  enforced,  for  how  few  care  for 
those  far-off  people,  if  profit  can  only  be  made ! 

On  April  28,  1881,  Lord  Shaftesbury  had  reached  his 
eightieth  birthday.  A  great  meeting  was  held  in  Guild- 
hall to  celebrate  the  event,  and  present  him  with  a  por- 


Ill 


EARL   OF  SIIAFTESliUIiV. 


187 


trait  of  liimself,  painted  by  Mr.  I>.  S.  ^larks.  Every 
part  of  the  building  was  crowded,  while  outside  the  eoster- 
mongers  gathered  with  their  gayly-bedecked  donkeys, 
and  the  flower-girls  scattered  flowers  before  him  as  he 
entered. 

Among  the  speeches  made,  none  pleased  him  more 
than  that  of  ^h\  W.  E.  Forster,  himself  a  mill-owner  in 
Yorkshire,  and  forever  honored  in  P^ngland  as  the  author 
of  the  Education  Bill  of  1870.  Speaking  of  the  exciting 
times  of  the  Factory  movement,  he  said,  "  The  good  con- 
duct on  the  part  of  the  population  was  in  a  great  measure 
due  to  the  moderating  influences  which  were  brought  to 
bear  on  them  by  Lord  Ashley.  How  I  do  wish  that  all 
agitators,  when  they  are  advocating  the  removal  of  great 
and  real  grievances,  would  take  an  example  from  the 
way  in  which  Lord  Ashley  conducted  that  agitation,  and 
remember  with  what  care  they  should  consider  both  the 
immediate  and  the  ultimate  effect  of  what  they  say,  upon 
those  who  are  suffering." 

At  the  opening  of  the  Costers'  Hall  in  the  fall  of  1881, 
twenty  thousand  people  followed  Lord  Shaftesbury  with 
flags  and  a  band  of  music.  He  had  long  felt  a  deep  inter- 
est in  these  costermongers,  who  sold  fruit  and  produce  on 
the  streets.  He  always  delighted  to  call  himself  a  "Cos- 
ter,'' and  would  often  spend  an  evening  with  his  "  breth- 
ren." He  used  to  say  "that  the  poor  needed  sympathy, 
not  patronage." 

Over  a  thousand  Costers  in  the  Gohlen  Lane  Mission 
presented  him  with  a  donkey,  profusely  decorated  with 
ribbons.  Lord  Shaftesbury,  who  loved  animals,  put  his 
arm  around  the  donkey's  neck,  as  he  said,  "  When  1  have 
passed  away  from  this  life  I  desire  to  have  no  more  said 
of  me  than  that  I  have  done  my  duty,  as  the  poor  donkey 


Mil!! 


^1 


I 


»^' 


i! 


188 


EARL  OF  SHAFTESliURY. 


i 

,     >'■ 

■  1 

r 

i 

1  ■ 

■ 

i 

i   , 

j 

1 

1 

k 

has  done  his,  with  patience  and  unmurmuring  resigna- 
tion." 

When  this  donkey  died  he  was  buried  on  the  estate 
where  the  pet  dogs  and  horses  of  the  family  were  buried, 
and  the  Costers  gave  Shaftt^sbury  anotlier.  It  became 
a  great  pet  with  the  grandchildren,  and  would  follow 
them  like  a  spaniel. 

The  closing  years  of  Lord  Shaftesbury's  life  were  full 
of  honors,  as  they  were  full  of  labors.  When  he  was 
eighty-three,  on  June  26,  1884,  in  the  midst  of  much 
ceremony  he  received  the  freedom  of  the  city  of  Lon- 
don in  a  golden  casket.  He  had  already  been  presented 
with  the  freedom  of  the  city  of  Glasgow,  August  28, 
1871,  and  of  Edinburgh,  in  token  of  his  long-continued 
philanthropic  efforts.  Oxford  had  given  him  the  degree 
of  D.C.L.  A  banquet  was  given  him  at  the  IVLansion 
House,  three  hundred  persons,  representing  all  the  great 
social,  religious,  and  political  interests  of  the  kingdom, 
responding  to  the  invitation.  When  he  was  eighty-four, 
twelve  friends  sent  him  a  draft  for  four  thousand  five 
hundred  pounds,  "  for  the  honor  of  his  approaching 
birthday." 

On  ]\Lay  22,  1885,  there  were  gathered  in  Exeter  Hall, 
those  who  had  been  scholars  in  the  Ragged  Schools 
scattered  over  the  country.  They  made  him  a  present 
of  six  framed  copies  of  Holman  Hunt's  "  Light  of  the 
World,"  that  he  might  present  one  to  each  of  his 
children. 

His  very  last  work  was  to  arrange  for  the  judicious 
distribution  of  £60,000,  left  to  his  care  by  a  lady,  Mrs. 
Douglas,  at  her  death,  for  London  charities. 

The  closing  days  were  drawing  near.  He  said,  "When 
I  feel  age  creeping  on  me,  and  know  that  I  must  soon 


EARL   OF  SHAFTESBURY. 


189 


i- 


die  —  I  hope  it  is  not  wrong  to  say  it  —  but  I  cannot 
hear  to  lecwe  the  world  xvith  oil  the  viiseri/  hi  it.''  At 
another  time  he  said  to  a  friend,  "Weylland,  there  are 
not  two  hours  in  the  day  but  I  am  thinking  and  pray- 
ing, 'Come,  Lord  Jesus.'  It  won't  be  long,  and  then 
I  shall  be  gathered  to  my  dear  Emily." 

In  the  latter  part  of  July,  1885,  Lord  Shaftesbury 
went  to  Folkestone,  by  the  wish  of  his  physician. 
Every  morning  he  used  to  ask  his  daughters  that  the 
twenty-third  Psalm  be  read  to  him:  "The  Lord  is  my 
Shepherd  ;  I  shall  not  want."  Towards  the  last  he  said, 
"  I  am  just  touching  the  hem  of  His  garment."  When 
a  letter  was  read  from  the  Dean  of  Westminster,  asking 
that  Lord  Shaftesbury  be  buried  in  the  Abbey,  he 
replied,  "No  — St.  Giles's-^ St.  Giles's." 

On  Thursday,  October  1,  at  a  quarter  before  two,  the 
end  came.  His  last  words  were  "  Thank  you,"  to  his 
faithful  steward  Goldsmith,  who  had  handed  him  some- 
thing. 

A  week  later  the  body  of  Lord  Shaftesbury  lay  in  his 
home  at  Grosvenor  Square,  the  large  room  filled  with 
flowers  sent  by  rich  and  poor.  October  8,  the  funeral 
services  were  held  in  Westminster  Abbey.  The  Baroness 
Burdett-Coutts  well  said  that  "  Lord  Shaftesburv  could 
not  be  honored  by  an  interment  in  Westminster  Abbey, 
but  the  Abbey  would  be  honored  by  receiving  his 
remains." 

"  In  spite  of  keen  wind  and  heavy  rain,"  says  Dr. 
John  W.  Kirton  in  his  "  True  Nobility,"  "  soon  after  ten 
o'clock  that  morning  people  were  seen  approaching 
Westminster  Abbey  from  all  directions.  At  first  they 
came  by  twos  and  threes,  then  by  dozens,  and  finally  by 
continuous  streams.     It  could  be  seen  at  once  that  they 


II 


III 


hit 


k 


h 


I  !> 


190 


EARL   OF  SIIAFrKsnURV. 


!l 


!  I 


II 


m 


irti 


were  drawn  from  all  classes  of  society,  but  it  was 
specially  noticeable  that  many  of  them  were  of  the 
poorest  of  the  poor.  .  .  .  There  were  working-men  and 
working-women,  ragged  urchins,  and  gray-headed  old 
men.  ...  It  was  very  touching  to  see,  here  and  there, 
the  attemiits  of  those  who  had  little  enough  clothing  of 
any  description,  to  wear  some  badge  of  mourning.  A 
i)it  of  crape  was  tied  round  the  sleeve  of  many  a 
ragged  jacket,  and  many  a  bonnet  was  bound  with  black 
ribbon.  .  .  . 

"  On  the  east  or  river  side  of  Parliament  Street,  it 
became  all  alive.  First  there  came  the  bands  playing 
their  dirge  music  as  they  walked  along,  then  the  banner- 
carriers  carrying  aloft  the  flags  of  peace.  On  the  one 
from  the  Twickenham  l^oys'  Home  could  be  read  the 
words:  'Naked,  and  ye  clothed  me.'  On  the  banner  of 
the  Boys'  Refuge  Farm  School,  Bisley  :  '  I  was  a  stranger, 
and  ye  took  me  in.'  On  a  snuiller  banner  could  be  seen 
the  words :  '  I  was  sick,  and  ye  visited  me ; '  and  on  a 
wreath  of  white  flowers  were  hung  the  words :  '  Sleep- 
ing with  the  angels,'  which  occupied  the  centre.  .  .  . 

"As  the  hour  of  noon  drew  nigh,  a  procession,  repre- 
senting the  costermongers,  came  in  sight,  their  band 
playing  the  'Dead  ^larch  in  Saul.'  The  numerous  depu- 
tation, some  of  whose  members  wore  scarfs  or  other 
emblems,  was  headed  by  a  large  pictorial  banner,  which 
had  on  its  upper  and  middle  surface  a  wreath  of  violets 
encircling  the  words,  '  Farewell,  but  not  forever;'  the 
name  of  Shaftesbury  as  President  of  the  Costermongers' 
and  General  Dealers'  and  Burial  Society,  established  in 
1872,  being  emblazoned  beneath." 

The  Abbey  was  full  long  before  the  appointed  hour 
of  service.     Besides  royalty,  archbishops,  and  members 


\\ 


EARL   OF  SIIAFTESIiURY. 


191 


,  ■'! 


of  I'arliament,  there  were  present  representations  from 
over  two  hundred  societies,  with  each  of  which  Lord 
Shaftesbury  was  connected ;  Kagged  Scdiools,  hosj)itals, 
orphan  asykinis,  Young  ]\Ien"s  Christian  Associations, 
blind  societies,  missions,  and  the  like. 

The  coffin  of  the  noble  earl  was  covered  with  flowers ; 
one  wreath  from  "  Three  Indian  orphans "  to  their 
"beloved  Sahib;"  another,  "A  loving  tribute  from  the 
flower-girls  of  London  ;"  another  from  the  Crown  l*rince 
and  Princess  of  Germany. 

"  As  the  hearse  moved  from  the  Abbey,"  says  ]\[r. 
Hodder,  "  the  band  of  the  Costermongers'  Temperance 
Society  playing  the  hymn  'Safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus,' 
a  })Oor  laboring  man  with  tattered  garments,  but  with  a 
piece  of  crape  sewed  on  to  his  sleeve,  turned  to  one  who 
stood  beside  him,  and  with  a  choking  voice  said,  'Our 
earl's  gone  !  God  A'mighty  knows  he  loved  us,  and  we 
loved  him.     We  sha'n't  see  his  likes  again  ' " 

The  coffin  was  borne  out  of  the  Abbey,  followed  by 
thousands  of  mourners,  to  "Waterloo  Station,  and  thence 
forwarded  by  train  to  St.  Giles's.  All  through  the  town 
hats  were  lifted  as  the  procession  passed  on  its  way  to 
the  church. 

On  the  ninth  of  October,  at  midday,  the  Earl  of 
Shaftesbury  was  laid  beside  his  Emily.  The  service 
closed  with  the  hymn  :  — 

*'  Now  the  laborer's  task  is  o'er, 
Now  the  battle  day  is  past; 
Now  upon  the  faither  shore 
Lands  the  voyager  at  last. 
Father,  in  Thy  gracious  keeping, 
Leave  we  now  Thy  servant  sleeping." 


jM 


tin    . 


ii 


m 


JOHN   BRIGHT. 


ANEW  YORK  merchant,  in  speaking  to  the  chil- 
dren of  Gravel  Lane  Ragged  School,  in  Salford, 
England,  said :  "  If  you  were  to  ask  in  the  schools  of 
America,  *  Who  are  tha  three  men  whom,  as  a  country, 
we  love  the  most  ? '  they  would  reply,  *  First,  Wash- 
ington, because  he  was  the  father  of  his  country ; 
second,  Abraham  Lincoln,  because  he  was  the  saviour 
of  his  country  ;  third,  John  Bright,  because  he  is  the 
friend  of  the  country.' "  As  long  as  the  Civil  War  is 
remembered,  so  long  will  the  memory  of  this  great 
Englishman  who  pleaded  our  cause  before  his  people, 
be  remembered  and  honored  in  America. 

In  Rochdale,  a  manufacturing  town  near  the  centre 
of  England,  John  Bright,  the  second  in  a  family  of 
eleven  children,  was  born  November  16,  1811.  Hi: 
father,  Jacob  Bright,  an  orphan,  was  apprenticed  to  ; 
farmer,  Mr.  Holme,  who,  having  three  or  four  looms  in 
his  house,  taught  the  boy  weaving.  When  the  youth 
was  twenty-one,  and  free  from  his  apprenticeship,  so 
said  his  illustrious  son  Jolin,  years  afterwards,  "  he 
sallied  forth  to  seek  his  living,  or,  as  the  story-books 
say,  to  seek  his  fortune,  along  with  his  fellow-appren- 
tice, Mr.  William  Tew ;  and  I  have  heard  him  say  that 
their  joint  purse  did  not  amount  to  more  than  about  ten 

192 


JOHN  BBIGIIT. 


193 


shillings.  He  found  employment  at  his  business  as  a 
weaver,  and  he  was  able  to  earn  about  six  shillings  per 
week." 

Six  years  later,  Jacob,  with  two  sons  of  Mr.  Holme, 
came  to  Rochdale,  and,  with  two  or  three  other  persons, 
built  a  cotton-mill.  The  young  Quaker  weaver  had 
shown  an  aptitude  for  business,  and  the  people  believed 
in  his  honestv. 

The  apprentice  had  endeared  himself  to  the  daughter 
of  jNIr.  Holme,  Sophia,  whom  lie  married,  but  she  died 
in  180G,  soon  after  their  union.  Three  years  later,  at 
the  age  of  thirty-four,  he  married  a  lady  fourteen  years 
his  junior,  Miss  IMartha  Wood,  the  daughter  of  a  trades- 
man. Their  first  child,  William,  died  at  the  age  of  four; 
their  second  child,  John,  though  very  delicate  as  a  boy, 
lived  to  bless  two  continents  with  his  eloquence  and 
his  nobility  of  character. 

The  mother  was  a  woman  of  great  refinement,  fond 
of  books,  and  especially  of  poetry,  a  characteristic 
her  son  inherited.  Busy  with  her  ten  children,  she 
stiM  found  time  to  hold  religious  meetings  twice  a  week 
with  the  young  women  of  the  neighborhood,  to  make, 
with  her  own  hands,  clothes  for  the  factory-girls,  and  to 
visit  the  sick  and  the  needy. 

One  morning,  while  walking  with  her  little  John,  she 
met  a  poor  widow  with  a  son  near  his  age,  wearing  very 
ragged  clothes.  She  took  them  home  with  her,  and  re- 
moving John's  first  new  suit  put  it  on  the  ragged  child. 
The  widow's  children  became  useful  managers  in  Mr. 
Bright's  business  in  after  years. 

Though  ]\Irs.  Bright  died  when  her  eldest  son  John 
was  but  eighteen,  with  nine  children  younger,  she  left 
such  memories  as  could  never  be  forgotten  by  them  or 


4 


J 


'^n 


194 


JOUN  BRIGHT. 


the  peoj^le  of  Rochdale.  She  was  always  held  in  the 
greatest  reverence.  Her  son  carried  out  the  principles 
she  had  taught  him. 

Jacob  Bright,  the  father,  was  also  of  sterling  charac- 
ter. He  was  frank,  genial,  fair  to  his  workmen,  and 
became  wealthy  through  his  industry  and  ability.  INIr. 
William  llobertson,  in  his  Life  of  John  Bright,  tells 
a  story  of  the  father  which  pleasantly  illustrates  his 
character. 

"A  steam-tenter,  the  father  of  six  children,  residing 
at  Syke,  in  the  neighboi'hood  of  ]Mr.  Bright's  residence, 
many  years  ago,  employed  at  a  foundry  in  the  heart  of 
the  town  of  Rochdale,  receiving  wages  inadequate  for 
the  support  of  his  family,  had  to  depend  partially  upon 
charity.  His  wife  waited  upon  ]\Ir.  Jacob  Bright  for 
the  loan  of  two  shillings,  promising  to  return  the 
money  the  following  week. 

"The  date  came  round,  but,  instead  of  being  able  to 
repay  the  money,  she  found  it  absolutely  necessary  to 
ask  for  another  loan  of  two  shillings,  and  this  repeated 
until  the  loan  accumulated  to  one  pound.  The  eldest 
boy,  about  eight  years  old,  who  had  been  sent  for  the 
money,  and  conveyed  the  promises  of  repayment,  was 
aioused  one  morning  with  the  usual  cry:  'John,  thou 
must  go  again  to  Jacob.' 

" '  Mother,'  said  the  boy,  '  hast  thou  the  one  pound 
ready  ?  ' 

"  '  Xo,  John,'  replied  the  mother. 

"  '  Then  am  I  to  get  more  money  ?  '  said  the  boy. 

"  '  Yes,  John  ;  we  cannot  do  without  it,  and  I  am  not 
able  to  pay  yet,'  added  the  mother. 

"  The  boy  burst  into  tears,  saying  sorrowfully  that  he 
was  ashamed  to  go  again,  after  making  so  many  prom- 


Wj 


lifi' 


i  i 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


195 


ises  to  pay,  and  obeyed  his  mother  very  reluctantly. 
Before  he  arrived  at  the  counting-house  he  met  j\Ir. 
Jacob  Bright,  who  inquired  why  he  was  crying.  The 
boy  reminded  him  tliat  it  was  the  day  for  the  repay- 
ment of  the  one  pound,  and  that  his  motlier,  still  unable 
to  fulfil  her  promise,  wanted  another  two  shillings. 

"  Mr.  Jacob  Bright,  patting  the  boy  on  the  back,  bade 
him  cease  crying,  saying  he  would  rub  out  the  old  score 
and  begin  again.  The  bori'owing  and  promising  went 
on,  but  the  day  never  arrived,  during  the  life  of  Mr. 
Jacob  Bright,  for  the  repayment." 

After  building  several  large  mills,  Mr.  Bright  retired 
from  business  in  1839,  leaving  his  sons  to  carry  on 
the  works,  under  the  firm  name  of  "  John  Bright  and 
Brothers." 

At  an  early  age,  John  Bright  was  sent  to  a  schoo'' 
taught  by  Mr.  William  Littlewood,  where  he  became  a 
favorite  pupil.  At  ten  he  went  to  the  Friends'  School, 
at  Ack worth,  Yorkshire,  and  later  to  Newton.  He  said 
years  afterwards :  "  The  last  of  the  schools  I  was  at 
was  the  one  with  regard  to  which  I  have  most  pleasant 
recollections,  for  it  was  situated  in  a  very  nice  valley, 
and  by  the  side  of  a  very  pleasant  river;  and  the  studies 
were  not  forced  upon  us  with  undue  harshness ;  but  we 
spent  a  good  deal  of  time  in  bird-nesting,  and  fishing  in 
the  river  Hodder,  chiefly  for  trout ;  and  frequently  dur- 
ing the  summer  months,  in  bathing  and  swimming  in 
one  of  the  pools  of  that  pleasant  stream.  I  did  not  get 
much  of  what  is  called  education ;  what  I  got  was 
something — I  had  almost  said  —  far  better,  for  I  got, 
I  believe,  whatever  store  of  good  health  I  have  had 
from  that  time  to  this." 

At  fifteen,  John's  school  life  was  over,  and  he  was 


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196 


JOHN  nniGHT. 


back  at  Kochdale  in  his  father's  mills,  learning  the 
business.  Sometimes,  with  sleeves  rolled  up,  he  assisted 
his  workmen  in  lifting  bales  of  cotton  ;  then  he  learned 
the  art  of  weaving ;  he  also  kept  accounts  in  his  father's 
office.  He  regretted  afterwards  that  he  had  not  stayed 
longer  in  school,  —  his  father  did  not  see  the  special 
need  of  a  superior  education,  —  but,  encouraged  by  his 
mother,  he  spent  his  evenings  in  the  study  of  history, 
poetry,  and  the  topics  of  the  day,  and  finally  became 
one  of  the  most  intelligent  men  of  his  time. 

One  often  hears  persons  lament  that  they  had  little 
opportunity  for  early  education,  or  they  could  lave  done 
more  in  the  world.  As  a  rule,  those  who  desire  an  edu- 
cation, get  it,  whether  in  a  schoolroom  or  in  an  attic. 
They  use  all  the  leisure  they  can  command  in  wise  read- 
ing. If  people  are  mediocre  in  knowledge,  the  fault  is 
generally  their  own. 

"  But,"  says  some  young  man  or  young  woman,  "  I 
am  tired  when  the  day's  work  is  done."  So  was  John 
Bright,  but  he  studied.  "  I  am  too  busy  with  social 
duties,"  say  others.  Each  one  must  decide  for  one's  self 
how  to  use  time.  The  road  to  renown  usually  leads  up 
many  steep  mountains,  and  through  difficult  passes,  be- 
fore the  heights  are  won. 

John  Bright  at  nineteen  was  a  handsome  youth,  witli 
curling  brown  hair,  blue  eyes,  a  genial  smile,  a  man- 
ner which  showed  determination  and  energy,  and  his 
mother's  fondness  for  doing  good.  He  was  called  by 
his  own  family  "the  thinker,"  because  so  deeply  inter- 
ested in  great  questions. 

Seeing  the  great  need  of  temperance  principles  among 
the  workmen,  he  and  two  other  persons  arranged  for  a 
lecture  on  the  subject   in   the   theatre   in   Toad   Lane, 


). 


L 


JOUN  BlilGnT. 


197 


Itochdale.  In  those  days  total  abstinence  was  an  un- 
popular subject ;  times  have  fortunately  changed  since 
then. 

After  this  meeting,  young  Bright  and  his  friend  Oliver 
Ormerod  decided  to  address  a  gathering  in  a  Unitarian 
school  building  in  the  country.  The  room,  only  twelve 
yards  by  six,  was  crowded  with  curious  people  long 
before  the  time  of  meeting.  On  their  way  thither  the 
young  men  agreed,  if  one  became  nervous  in  speaking, 
that  he  should  be  reassured  by  manifestation  of  applause, 
begun  by  the  other.  Both  probably  spoke  well,  because 
both  were  in  earnest. 

Ormerod  gave  his  life  to  Sunday-school  work  and  vis- 
iting the  sick  and  the  sorrowing.  When,  years  after,  he 
was  near  death,  John  Bright,  famous  and  beloved,  visited 
him.  "  You  have  done  a  great  work,  sir,  in  your  life," 
said  the  dying  Ormerod.  "  You  have  worked  as  hard,'* 
was  the  response  of  John  Bright.  "  My  work  has  been 
of  a  public  character,  but  yours  has  been  not  the  less 
useful." 

Two  years  after  this  first  temperance  speech.  Rev. 
John  Aldis,  a  Baptist  minister,  came  to  Rochdale,  to 
speak  at  a  Bible  Society  meeting  in  the  Friends'  INFeet- 
ing  House.  Visiting  at  the  residence  of  an  acquaintance, 
he  was  told  that  Mr.  Bright,  twenty-one  years  of  age, 
was  also  to  speak,  and  would  accompany  Mr.  Aldis  to 
the  place  of  worship. 

"Soon  a  slender,  modest  young  gentleman  came,"  says 
Mr.  Aldis,  "  who  soon  surprised  me  by  his  intelligence 
and  thoughtfulness.  I  took  his  arm  on  the  way  to  the 
meeting,  and  I  thought  he  seemed  nervous.  I  think  it 
was  his  first  public  speech,  at  all  events,  in  such  con- 
nection.    It  was  very  eloquent  and  powerful,  and  car- 


s;-:  ( 


;    : 


ill 


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i'i 


f   ^^ 


198 


JOUN  BRIGHT. 


ried  away  the  meeting ;  but  it  was  elaborate  aiul 
inemorite)'. 

*'  On  our  way  back,  I  congratulated  him  ;  he  said  that 
such  efforts  cost  him  too  dear,  and  asked  me  how  I  spoke 
so  easily.  I  then  took  the  free  advantage  of  my  senior- 
ity to  set  fully  my  notions:  .  .  .  that  hi  his  case,  as  in 
most,  I  thought  it  woukl  be  best  not  to  burden  the  mem- 
ory too  much,  but  having  carefully  jjrepared  and  com- 
mitted any  portions  where  special  effect  was  desired, 
merely  to  put  down  other  things  in  the  desired  order, 
leaving  the  wording  of  them  to  the  moment. 

"  Years  rolled  away.  I  had  entirely  forgotten  tlie 
name  of  the  young  'Friend,'  when  the  Free  Trade 
Bazaar  was  held  in  London.  One  of  those  engaged  in 
it  —  Mr.  Baker  of  Stockport  —  calling  on  me,  asked  if 
I  had  called  on  IMr.  Bright.  I  said  I  had  not  been  able 
to  attend  the  meetings,  and  did  not  personally  know 
him  at  all.  He  rei)lied,  '  You  must,  for  I  heard  him  say 
that  you  gave  him  his  first  lesson  in  public  speaking.' 
I  went  to  a  subsequent  meeting,  and  recognized  the 
young  '  Friend  '  of  1832." 

Mr.  Bright  said,  many  years  afterward,  "  I  have  never 
been  in  the  liabit  of  writing  out  my  speeches ;  certainly 
not  for  more  than  thirty  years  past.  Tiie  labor  of  writ- 
ing is  bad  enough,  and  the  labor  of  committing  to  mem- 
ory would  be  intolerable;  and  speeches  'read'  to  a  meet- 
ing are  not  likely  to  be  received  with  much  favor.  It  is 
enough  to  think  over  what  is  to  be  said,  and  to  form  an 
outline  in  a  few  brief  notes.  But  first  of  all,  a  real 
knowledge  of  the  subject  to  be  spoken  of  is  required ; 
with  that,  practice  should  make  speaking  easy."  He 
thought  a  person  must  be  logical  in  mind,  full  of  ideas, 
and  free  of  speech,  to  become  a  good  speaker. 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


199 


'il 


Mr.  Bright  once  said  at  a  dinner-party :  "  The  \vht»lo 
secret  of  effective  -speaking  is  here  :  of  course,  if  you 
mean  to  speak,  you  first  know  what  you  are  going  to 
say ;  and  when  you  have  resolved  on  that,  the  next 
point  is  to  spoak  very  deliberately  —  every  word,  in  fact 
every  sellable,  should  be  expressed.  If  you  do  this,  and 
if  you  have  matter  worth  listening  to,  you  will  be  lis- 
tened to,  and  you  will  acquire  a  confidence  and  ease  you 
won't  acquire  in  any  other  way." 

In  these  early  years,  and,  indeed,  through  life,  he 
spoke  against  capital  punishment,  whenever  an  oppor- 
tunity offered.  His  humane  and  Christian  views  are  not 
yet  universally  accepted. 

The  following  year,  1833,  Mr.  J.  S.  Buckingham,  a 
member  of  Parliament  for  Sheffield,  delivered  a  course 
of  lectures  on  Palestine  and  Egypt ;  young  liright  was  so 
pleased,  that,  at  the  close  of  the  course,  he  returned  a 
vote  of  thanks  to  the  speaker  in  a  brief  but  eloquent 
address.  INIr.  Buckingham  was  so  much  impressed  with 
the  speech  that  he  said  to  a  friend,  "  Mark  my  words,  if 
that  young  man  lives,  he  will  become  one  of  the  greatest 
orators  in  England." 

This  year,  1833,  INIr.  Bright  and  a  number  of  friends 
formed  "  The  Rochdale  Literary  and  Philosophical  So- 
ciety." Lectures  "On  the  universal  education  of  the 
lower  classes,"  and  kindred  subjects,  were  given  at  some 
of  the  meetings ;  and  at  others,  such  topics  were  dis- 
cussed, as:  "From  our  study  of  history,  ancient  and 
modern,  what  form  of  government  appears  the  best  suited 
to  promote  the  happiness  of  mankind  ?  "  On  this  to})ic, 
submitted  by  Mr.  Bright,  he  made  the  motion  :  "  That  a 
limited  monarchy  is  best  suited  for  this  country  at  the 
present  time." 


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200 


JOHN  liiiiGnr. 


m  i 


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Up  to  this  age,  twenty-two,  young  Bright  had  been 
a  member  of  a  cricket  club,  which  phiyed  twelve  games 
during  the  year  ;  but  he  now  discontinued  it,  as  his  life 
was  becoming  too  full  of  absorbing  labor. 

In  the  workshop,  he  debated  daily  with  some  of  the 
veteran  Radicals.  He  listened  eagerly  to  the  stories  of 
an  old  workman  who  had  been  a  soldier  for  twenty- 
eight  years,  who  had  fought  in  many  battles  and  had 
endured  much  hardship.  This,  without  doubt,  had  its 
influence  on  the  man  who  was  later  to  electrify  England 
in  his  appeals  for  peace. 

In  1835,  still  remembering  the  lectures  on  Palestine 
and  Egypt,  countries  which  he  had  became  eager  to  see, 
Mr.  Bright,  with  a  friend,  went  to  the  H  )ly  Land,  visit- 
ing Gibraltar,  Malta,  Smyrna,  Constantiiiople,  Athens, 
Italy,  France,  and  Belgium.  A  great  'idmirer  of  the 
poetry  of  Byron,  Bright  went  to  most  of  the  noted 
places  mentioned  in  "  Childe  Harold,"  and  on  his  return 
gave  a  lecture  on  his  travels  before  the  Rochdale 
Literary  Society. 

In  1837,  Mr.  Bright,  having  become  deeply  interested  in 
the  subject  of  popular  education,  went  to  Manchester  to 
induce  Mr.  Richard  Cobden  to  come  to  Rochdale,  and 
speak  for  them  in  the  schoolroom  of  the  Baptist  chapel. 
"  I  introduced  myself  to  him,"  said  Bright,  in  telling 
afterwards  of  this,  their  first  meeting.  "  I  told  him 
what  I  wanted.  His  countenance  lit  up  with  pleasure  to 
find  that  there  were  others  tliat  were  working  on  this 
question,  and  he,  without  hesitation,  agreed  to  come.  He 
came,  and  he  spoke  ;  and  though  he  was  then  so  young 
as  a  speaker,  yet  the  qualities  of  his  speech  were  such 
as  remained  with  him  so  long  as  he  was  able  to  speak  at 
all  —  clearness,  logic,  a  conversational  eloquence,  a  per- 


«-J'u 


JOHN  nniauT. 


'Hn 


suasiveness  which,  when  conjoined  with  the  absolute 
truth  '"hicli  there  was  in  his  eye  and  in  his  countenance 
—  a  persuasiveness  which  it  was  almost  impossible  to 
resist." 

Fror.i  that  evening,  the  two  men,  Cobden  and  Bright, 
became  united  in  the  closest  friendship,  and  labored 
ever  after  together  in  a  common  cause,  —  the  repeal  of 
the  Corn  Laws,  or  Free  Trade  for  England. 

In  October,  1838,  seven  men  in  Manchester  founded 
the  National  Anti-Corn-Law  League  ;  six  Scotchmen  and 
one  Irishman.  Richard  Cobden  as  well  as  John  Bright 
soon  joined  the  Association.  The  merchants,  traders, 
and  manufacturers  of  Manchester  soon  subscribed  three 
thousand  pounds  to  help  forward  the  agitation. 

Cobden  was  the  son  of  a  poor  farmer,  and,  like  John 
Bright,  one  of  eleven  children.  "  His  mother  was  a 
woman  of  extraordinary  energy,  and  this  is  the  secret 
of  some  of  his  prominent  excellences,"  says  Robertson. 
She  died  when  Richard  was  twenty-one. 

The  boy  at  fifteen  became  a  clerk  in  his  uncle's  ware- 
house in  London,  and  later  travelled  to  Manchester  and 
other  cities  to  sell  muslins  and  calicoes.  At  twenty- 
four,  he  and  two  friends  began  business  for  themselves 
in  Manchester,  borrowing  more  than  half  of  their  little 
capital.  He  soon  prospered,  and  became  a  man  of 
means  as  well  as  of  great  intellectual  power. 

"  Few  men,  indeed,"  says  John  Morley,  in  his  Life  of 
Cobden,  "have  been  more  heavily  weighted  at  the  start 
than  Cobden  was.  His  family  was  still  dogged  and 
tracked  from  place  to  place  by  the  evil  genius  of  slipshod 
fortune.  In  1829  Frederick,  his  brother,  began  the 
business  of  a  timber  merchant  at  Barnet,  but  unhappily 
the  undertaking  was  as  little  successful  as  other  things 


1 


202 


JO  UN  lililGIIT. 


iS      I 


to  which  he  over  i)iit  liis  hand.  .  .  .  William,  the  father, 
went  to  live  with  his  son  at  Harnet,  and  amused  a  favor- 
ite passion  by  watching  the  liundred  and  twenty  coaches 
wliicli  each  day  whirled  u})  and  down  tht^  great  north 
road.  Nothing  })rospered.  ])eath  carried  off  a  son  and 
a  daugliter  in  the  same  year.  Frederick  lost  health,  and 
he  lost  his  brother's  money.  .  .  . 

"  llichard  Cobdon,  however,  had  energy  enough  and  to 
spare  for  the  rest  of  his  family.  He  pressed  his  brother 
to  join  him  at  Manchester,  where  he  had  bought  a  house 
in  what  was  then  the  genteel  private  c[uarter  of  Mosley 
Street." 

He  too,  like  Bright,  was  eager  for  self-culture.  He 
took  up  Latin  and  mathematics  in  his  evenings.  He 
published  at  thirty-one,  two  pamphlets,  one  on  '•  Russia," 
and  one  on  "  England,  Ireland,  and  America."  The  latter, 
at  the  high  price  of  three  shillings  and  sixpence,  went 
through  three  editions  in  twelve  m(mths.  He  had  trav- 
elled in  tlie  last-named  country  in  1835;  "on  the  soil  of 
which,"  he  writes  his  brother,  "  I  fondly  hope  will  be 
realized  some  of  those  dreams  of  human  exaltation,  if 
not  of  perfection,  with  which  I  love  to  console  myself." 

Looking  down  from  the  Alleghanies  "upon  the  begin- 
ning of  that  vast  extent  of  territory  known  as  the  great 
Mississippi  Valley,  which  extends  almost  without  vari- 
ation of  surface  to  the  base  of  the  Rocky  ^Mountains," 
he  said,  "Here  will  one  day  be  the  headquarters  of 
agricultural  and  manufacturing  industry  ;  here  will  one 
day  centre  the  civilization,  the  wealth,  the  power,  of  the 
entire  world." 

A  friend  asked  him  wdiether  it  would  be  worth  while 
to  go  far  out  of  one's  way  to  see  the  Falls  of  Niagara. 
"Yes,  most   assuredly,"  he   replied.     "Nature  has  the 


.JOHN  niilGIIT. 


il(y^ 


?> 


su\)limity  of  rest,  and  the  sublimity  of  motion.  The  sub- 
limity of  rest  is  in  the  great  snow  mountains;  the  sublim- 
ity of  motion  is  in  Niagara." 

Cobden  ridiculed  the  talk  about  "  balance  of  power," 
which  has  so  often  forced  England  into  war.  His  i)rcmise 
was,  "  Xo  government  has  the  right  to  plunge  its  people 
into  hostilities,  except  in  defence  of  their  own  honor  and 
interests." 

"  These  most  admirable  pages  were  no  mere  rhetoric," 
says  Morley.  "  The  writer  was  able  to  point  to  a  nation 
whose  example  of  pacific  industry,  wise  care  of  the 
education  of  her  young,  and  abstinence  from  such  infatu- 
ated intervention  as  ours  in  the  affairs  of  others,  would, 
as  he  warned  us,  one  day  turn  us  into  moralists  in  self- 
defence,  as  one  day  it  assuredly  will.  It  is  from  the 
peaceful  nation  in  the  West,  and  not  from  the  military 
nations  of  the  East,  that  danger  to  our  strength  will 


V 


come 

Cobden  said :  "  Looking  to  the  natural  endowments  of 
the  North  American  continent  —  as  superior  to  Europe 
as  the  latter  is  to  Africa  —  with  an  almost  immeasurable 
extent  of  river  navigation,  its  boundless  expanse  of 
the  most  fertile  soil  in  the  world,  and  its  inexhaustible 
mines  of  coal,  iron,  lead,  etc.,  —  looking  at  these,  and 
remembering  the  quality  and  position  of  a  people  uni- 
versally instructed  and  perfectly  free,  and  possessing,  as 
a  consequence  of  these,  a  new-born  energy  and  vitality 
very  far  surpassing  the  character  of  any  nation  of  the 
Old  World,  the  writer  .  .  .  declares  his  conviction  that  it 
is  from  the  West,  rather  than  from  the  East,  that  danger 
to  the  supremacy  of  Great  Britain  is  to  be  apprehended; 
that  it  is  from  the  silent  and  peaceful  rivalry  of  Ameri- 
can commerce,  the  growth  of  its  manufactures,  its  rapid 


II 


t), 


i 


i 


^ii 


1  i' 


w 

iff' 


» 


! 


t 


^ 


204 


JOIII^  BRIGHT. 


progress  in  internal  improvements,  the  superior  educa 
tion  of  its  people,  and  their  economical  and  pacific 
government  —  that  it  is  f r^  )m  these,  and  not  from  the 
barbarous  policy  or  the  iiiipoverishing  armaments  of 
liussia,  that  the  grandeur  of  our  commercial  and  na- 
tio.    .  prosperity  is  endangered." 

"  AVhat  is  striking  in  Cobden,"  says  IMorley,  "  is  that 
after  a  lost  and  wasted  cliildhood,  a  youth  of  drudgery 
in  a  warehouse,  and  an  early  manhood  passed  amid  the 
rather  vulgar  associations  of  the  commercial  traveller, 
he  should  at  the  age  of  one  and  thirty  have  stepped 
forth  the  master  of  a  written  style  which  in  boldness, 
freedom,  correctness,  and  persuasive  moderation,  was 
not  surpassed  by  any  man  then  living." 

The  following  year,  183G,  Cobden  ;  ravelled  to  Egypt, 
Constantinople,  Smyrna,  Athens,  and  elsewhere  in  the 
East.  He  had  also  visited  Germany,  where  he  made  a 
study  of  economic  questions. 

This,  then,  was  the  energetic  and  intelligent  young 
man  of  thirty-four,  who  had  joined  the  Anti-Corn-Law 
League  in  Manchester.  Bright  was  seven  years  younger 
than  Cobden. 

The  League  engaged  a  room  for  their  meetings  in  an 
u[)per  floor  on  Market  Street,  ]\ranchester.  The  room 
was  divided  by  a  red  curtain,  whicli,  said  Cobden,  the 
committee  drew  across  so  tliat  the  small  number  of  their 
members  might  not  discourage  them.  "  Whnt  a  lucky 
thing  it  is,"  he  said  to  a  friend,  ''  the  monopolists  cannot 
draw  aside  the  curtain,  and  see  how  many  of  us  there 
are  !  for,  if  they  could,  they  would  not  be  much  fright- 
ened." 

Early  in  1839  an  open-air  Anti-Corn-Law  meeting  was 
held  in  The  Butts,  Kochdale,  the  speakers  mounting  a 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


205 


wagon,  and  addressing  three  thousand  persons,  mostly 
working-men.  Other  meetings  followed.  A  petition, 
with  nine  thousand  seven  hundred  names,  against  the 
Corn  Laws,  was  gotten  up  under  the  superintendence 
of  ]Mr.  Bright,  and  presented  to  the  House  of  Commons. 
This  year,  1839,  in  I^ovember,  Mr.  Bright  married  Eliza- 
beth, daughter  of  Jonathan  Priestman,  of  Newcastle- 
upon-Tyne,  a  young  lady  beloved  for  her  Christian 
character  and  cultivated  mind.  She  died  in  less  than 
two  years,  leaving  a  little  daughter,  Helen,  to  brighten 
the  stricken  home. 

Mr.  Bright  was  overwhelmed  by  the  calamity.  It  was 
well  that  a  friend  was  at  hand  to  arouse  him  to  his  duty 
towards  the  living.  He  thus  spoke  of  it  years  after- 
wards, in  a  speech  at  Rochdale  :  "  In  the  year  1841  I 
was  at  Leamington,  and  spent  several  months  there.  It 
was  near  the  middle  of  September  there  fell  upon  me 
one  of  the  heaviest  blows  that  can  visit  any  man.  I 
found  myself  left  there  with  none  living  of  my  house 
but  a  motherless  child.  Mr.  Cobden  called  upon  me 
the  day  after  that  event,  so  terrible  to  me,  and  so  pros- 
trating. He  said,  after  some  conversation,  'Don't  allow 
this  grief,  great  as  it  is,  to  weigh  you  down  too  much  ; 
there  are  at  this  moment,  in  thousands  of  homes  in  this 
country,  wives  and  children  who  are  dying  of  hungei-,  — 
of  hunger  made  by  the  law.  If  you  will  come  along  with 
me,  we  will  never  rest  till  we  have  got  rid  of  the  Corn 
Law.'  " 

Mr.  Cobden's  statement  was  pitifully  true.  Harvests 
had  been  so  poor,  and  food  so  high  on  account  of  the 
l)rotective  tariff  on  grain,  that,  says  Eobertson,  "amongst 
the  agricultural  laborers,  their  scanty  wages  scarcely  left 
them  anything  for  fuel,  and  afforded  nothing  for  cloth- 


206 


JOUN  BRIGHT. 


I         1 

i 

i 

>        'it 

1 

1 

■  i 
^1 

'  1 

i  i 

:  ■!  ! 

1    ^':''    1 

Ml' 

j  i 
I 

1  i  I 


UH 


ing.  The  peasantry  of  the  South  of  England  were  re- 
duced almost  to  the  level  of  l^lish  serfs.  Their  chief 
food  was  black  bread,  made  of  a  mixture  of  barley-meal 
and  potatoes.  Tlieir  wages  averaged  seven  shillings  per 
week,  and  out  of  that  sum  they  had  to  pay  about  one 
shilling  and  fourpence  for  rent  ;  and  some  families 
numbered  six.  Their  pale  and  sunken  faces  too  plainly 
denoted  the  emaciated  condition  they  were  in." 

Investigation  was  made  among  the  workingmen  of 
Rochdale.  The  report  said :  "  Boys  come  for  tliree- 
ha'porth  of  meal,  in  rags  —  family  of  seven,  sober  and 
industrious;  utmost  wages  with  full  work,  eleven  shil- 
lings to  twelve  shillings  per  week ;  father,  seven  or  eight 
shillings  ;  two  boys,  four  shillings,  setting  cards.  Only 
one  bed  for  seven  persons.  Customers  who  used  to  buy 
a  ponid  of  sugar  now  buy  a  pennyworth,  or  a  quarter  of 
a  pound  for  twopence.  Tea  sold  in  quantities  as  small 
as  half  an  ounce  for  halfpenny.  .  .  .  Four  or  five  in  a  fam- 
ily send  for  half  an  oatcake,  worth  halfpenny,  with  bits 
and  scraps  of  bacon  halfpenny  or  penny  more.  ...  At 
breakfast  or  dinner  hours,  many  come  iu  for  a  ha'portli 
or  pennyworth  of  bread." 

"Thousands  of  poor  people  were  forced  to  break  up 
their  homes  through  the  want  of  employment,  and  lead 
the  lives  of  mendi(;ants.  .  .  .  Yet  at  this  time  as  many 
as  live  hundred  carriages  were  to  be  seen  daily  iu  Hyde 
Park,  chiefly  belonging  to  the  landed  gentry,  which 
formed  a  strong  contrast  with  the  deplorable  condition 
of  the  working-class." 

The  ovqiers  of  great  estates  knew  if  all  kinds  of  grain 
(or  "  corn "  as  it  is  called)  were  allowed  to  come  from 
America  and  other  countries,  the  produce  of  their  own 
acres  would  be  cheapened,  and  therefore  their  incomes 
decreased. 


lii;? 


JOHN  B RIGHT. 


207 


From  early  times,  in  England,  there  had  been  various 
enactments  prohibiting  the  importation  of  grain,  to  stim- 
ulate home  production.  In  1815  a  law  was  passed  by 
Parliament  which  proliibited  the  importation  of  corn 
whenever  the  price  fell  below  eighty  shillings  a  quarter. 
In  consequence  of  great  dissatisfaction,  this  law  was 
moditied  from  time  to  time.  In  1828  Canning,  the 
Prime  ]Minister,  introduced  a  "  sliding-scale,"  which, 
when  wheat  was  thirty-six  shillings,  made  the  duty 
fifty  shillings  and  eightpence  a  quarter ;  when  grain 
was  seventy-three  shillings  or  over,  the  duty  was  only 
one  shilling.  After  this  "  sliding-scale "  on  grain  and 
other  products  was  enacted,  it  was  found  that  the  im- 
porters, often  unable  to  sell  at  a  profit,  would  pour  tar 
into  their  casks  of  butter,  thus  avoiding  the  payment  of 
a  heavy  duty.  Much  grain  held  in  bond  was  not  worth 
the  cost  of  keeping,  and  was  thrown  into  the  Thames, 
under  the  direction  of  Custom-House  ofHcers. 

INIatters  went  from  bad  to  worse.  "  One  week,  only 
one  beast  was  killed  at  Accrington,  although  the  popu- 
lation numbered  ten  thousand.  Twenty  years  previous 
to  this  date,  when  he  inhabitants  were  not  more  than 
five  thousand,  from  five  to  ten  beasts  were  killed  weekly 
at  the  same  town."  "A  young  man  at  Sterling,  of  re- 
spectable parents,"  says  Robertson,  "  was  observed  one 
morning  to  pass  a  huckster's  shop,  at  the  door  of  which 
stood  a  measure  of  potatoes.  After  passing  the  shop  a 
little  way,  he  returned  and  took  one  of  the  potatoes,  and 
went  away.     The  shopkeeper  allowed  him  to  go. 

"  On  the  day  after,  the  j'oung  man  returned,  and  did 
the  same  thing.  On  the  third  day  he  took  another 
potato,  and  on  the  fourth  day  five  potatoes.  The  last 
day  the  shopkeeper  had  a  police  officer  in  attendance, 


I  u 


r 

II 

1 

r    1 

I  '■ 

1 '    ' 
i    i 

1 

i| 

Hi  j 

■  1  ' 

i!  i 

i 

208 


J-OZr^r  BRIGUT. 


and  both  of  them  followed  the  young  man  home,  and 
there  they  found  an  aged  mother  and  two  sisters  de- 
pendent upon  him  for  support.  There  was  a  pot  upon 
a  poor  fire,  and  upon  the  shopkeeper  asking  the  mother 
if  she  knew  where  her  son  got  the  potatoes,  she  replied, 
'  No  ;  I  was  afraid  to  ask.'  " 

Mr.  Bright  said  in  a  public  speech  :  "  The  country  wns 
filled  with  paupers,  and  we  were  now  devouring  each 
other.  In  Leeds  there  were  forty  thousand  persons 
subsisting  on  charity.  A  friend  of  his  was  then  in  the 
room  who  told  him  that  in  Sheffield  there  were  no  less 
than  twelve  thousand  paupers,  and  that  there  were  as 
many  more  who  were  as  badly  off.  These  towns  were 
desolated,  and  did  they  think  that  when  the  manufac- 
turing districts  were  involved  in  ruin,  that  London  could 
be  safe  ?  " 

Again  Mr.  Bright  said:  "It  had  been  proved  from 
accurate  reports,  that  in  some  districts  of  Manchester 
and  Leeds,  570  children,  out  of  1,000  who  were  born, 
died  before  they  were  five  years  of  age.  Amongst  the 
aristocracy  and  persons  of  comfortable  circumstances, 
about  seventy  out  of  1,000  died  before  reaching  that  age  ; 
and  here,  there  were  500  children  born  to  life  and  happi- 
ness, born  to  give  comfort  to  their  parents,  and  strengtli. 
power,  and  prosperity  to  the  country,  swept  to  iw. 
untimely  grave  by  causes  in  no  small  degree  to  be 
attributed  to  the  operation  of  these  oppressive  laws." 

Mr.  P)right  did  not  forget  his  great  sorrow  in  the  death 
of  his  young  wife,  but  he  gave  his  heart  and  time  more 
earnestly  than  ever  to  the  work  of  repealing  the  Corn 
Laws.  AVith  Cobden,  he  visited  all  the  large  towns,  and 
spoke  almost  every  day  and  every  night ;  reporters  were 
present,  and    soon    their  burning    speeches  were    tele- 


f 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


209 


11!! 

be 


graphed  all  over  the  kingdom.  Money  was  subscribed 
at  each  meeting,  towards  the  fifty  thousand  pounds  they 
had  determined  to  raise,  to  be  spent  in  scattering  docu- 
ments, employing  lecturers,  and  publishing  a  paper,  the 
Antl-Corn-Laiv  Circular. 

The  women  became  deeply  interested  in  the  cause,  as 
women  should  be  in  everything  which  concerns  the  well- 
being  of  humanity.  "The  ladies  of  Lancashire,"  says 
INIr.  Mongredien,  in  his  "  Free-Trade  Movement  in 
England,"  "held  monster  tea-meetings,  at  which  they 
were  addressed  by  some  of  the  leaders  of  the  movement." 

These  great  "  tea-meetings  "  culminated  in  a  bazaar, 
held  in  the  Theatre  Royal,  in  Manchester,  Mrs.  Cobden 
being  president.  She  had  been  married  to  Richard 
Cobden  a  year  or  two  previously ;  was  endowed  with 
singular  personal  beauty,  and  possessed  manners  of  great 
charm  and  dignity.  From  this  bazaar,  which  lasted  ten 
days,  about  nine  thousand  pounds  were  obtained  for  the 
League. 

In  January,  1843,  the  great  "Free  Trade  Hall"  in 
Manchester  was  built,  a  hundred  and  thirty-five  feet  by 
a  hundred  and  five,  the  largest  hall  in  the  kingdom  with 
one  or  two  exceptions.  Cobden  gave  the  land,  the  site 
being  that  of  the  "  Peterloo  massacre." 

In  1819,  twenty-four  years  previous  to  the  opening  of 
the  Free  Trade  Hall,  some  fifty  thousand  men  and 
women,  witli  bands  of  music,  were  gathered  on  this  site, 
to  demand  reform.  They  carried  banners  inscribed  with 
the  words,  "No  Corn  Laws,"  "Suffrage  Universal," 
"  Parliaments  Annual."  The  vast  assembly  was  orderly 
and  attentive.  As  the  cliairman  began  his  address,  the 
INIanchester  and  Salford  cavalry  dashed  into  the  crowd, 
cutting  their  way  without  respect  to  age  or  sex.     The 


"HH 


^ 


210 


JOUN  BlilGUT. 


Eiot  Act  had  been  read,  but  few  were  aware  of  it.  In 
ten  minutes  the  pLace  was  deserted.  "  Over  the  whole 
fiehl  were  strewn  caps,  bonnets,  hats,  shawls,  and  shoes, 
and  other  parts  of  male  and  female  dress,  trampled,  torn 
and  bloody.  The  yeomanry  had  dismounted  ;  some  were 
easing  their  horses'  girths,  others  adjusting  their 
accoutrements,  and  some  wiping  their  sabres.  Several 
mounds  of  human  beings  still  remained  where  they  had 
fallen,  crushed  down  and  smothered.  Some  of  them 
were  still  groaning,  others  with  staring  eyes  were  gasping 
for  breath,  and  others  would  never  breathe  more.  All 
was  silent,  save  those  low  sounds,  and  the  occasional 
snorting  and  pawing  of  steeds."  It  was  indeed  fitting 
that  this  reform  building  should  be  placed  on  the  spot 
where  the  right  of  free  speech  had  been  stifled  in 
blood  two  decades  before. 

At  the  first  meeting  in  the  Free  Trade  Hall,  on  Jan- 
uary 30, 1843,  over  seven  thousand  persons  were  present. 
A  month  later,  ten  thousand  persons  were  assembled. 
Already  two  thousand  lectures  had  been  delivered  in 
favor  of  repeal;  over  five  million  Anti-Cori-Law  tracts 
had  been  circulated,  the  whole  involving  an  nenditure 
of  one  hundred  thousand  pounds.  Surely  bumebody 
was  in  earnest. 

Cobden  had  become  a  member  of  Parliament,  though 
he  declined  at  first.  "  I  offered,"  he  said,  "■  to  give  a 
hundred  pounds  towards  the  expenses  of  another 
candidate  in  my  stead  for  Stockport,  and  to  canvass  for 
him  for  a  week;  and  it  was  only  when  the  electors 
declared  that  they  could  not  agree  to  another,  and  would 
not  be  able  to  oust  the  bread-taxers  without  me,  that  I 
consented  to  stand." 

In  April,  1843,  Mr.  Bright,  then  thirty-two  years  of 


JOUN  BRIGHT. 


211 


in 


of 


age,  was  asked  to  stand  for  Durham,  as  there  was  a 
vacant  seat  in  Parliament  for  that  town.  He  received 
a  greater  number  of  votes  than  any  Liberal  since  the 
passage  of  the  Keform  Bill  in  1832,  but  his  opponent, 
Lord  Dungannon,  was  the  successful  candidate. 

Mr.  lUight  said:  "When  it  was  remembered  that  the 
whole  expenses  he  had  incurred  did  not  exceed  fifty  or 
sixty  pounds,  and  that  not  a  farthing  had  been  expended 
for  drink,  not  a  farthing  in  bribes,  not  a  farthing  which 
he  could  not  expose  to  his  opponent,  or  any  other  person, 
he  did  think  that,  considering  all  these  things,  the  result 
was  not  to  be  considered  in  the  light  of  a  defeat,  but  as 
affording  hope  of  a  not  very  distant  triumph." 

Soon  after,  it  was  proved  that  Lord  Dungannon  had 
been  returned  through  bribery,  his  agents  paying  large 
sums  to  electors.  The  election  was  therefore  declared 
void,  and  JNIr.  lU'ight  ^\  as  again  asked  to  be  the  candidate. 

He  made  an  eloquent  address.  "  There  have  been 
convulsions,"  he  said,  "  of  a  most  dire  character,  which 
have  overturned  old  established  monarchies,  and  have 
hurled  thrones  and  sceptres  to  the  dust.  There  have 
been  revolutions  which  have  brought  down  most  powerful 
aristocracies,  and  swept  them  from  the  face  of  the  earth 
forever.  IJut  never  was  there  a  revolution  yet,  which 
destroyed  the  people.  And  whatever  may  come  as  a 
consequence  of  the  state  of  things  in  this  country,  of 
this  we  may  rest  assured,  that  the  common  people,  that 
the  great  bulk  of  our  countrymen,  will  remain  and  sur- 
vive the  shock,  though  it  may  be  that  the  crown,  and  the 
aristocracy,  and  the  church,  may  be  levelled  with  the 
dust,  and  rise  no  more.  ... 

"  We  have  a  right  to  clamor ;  auv  so  long  as  I  have 
breath,  so  long  as  I  have  physical  power,  so  long  as  I 


f  ,1'  ; 


I        :i 


!  M 


i  I 


X  i  i 


^iil 


212 


JOHN  BRIGUT. 


have  intellect,  and  so  long  as  I  have  memory  and  voice 
to  express  opinion,  so  long  will  I  clamor  against  the 
oppression  which  I  see  to  exist,  and  in  favor  of  the 
rights  of  the  great  body  of  the  people." 

jNIr.  Bright  was  elected,  and  the  town  gave  itself  up  to 
rejoicing.  Every  window  along  the  street  was  crowded 
with  ladies,  who  waved  their  handkerchiefs  and  ribbons. 
There  was  one  continual  cheer  from  the  immense  con- 
course of  people,  as  he  passed  along  the  street.  Roch- 
dale was  of  course  proud  of  him.  Cobden  congratulated 
Iiim,  and  said,  "  I've  had  all  the  dirt  thrown  at  me 
heretofore ;  now  you,  being  younger,  will  share  it  with 
me,  and  probably  get  the  largest  share.  You'll  have  it 
in  style  in  the  House  of  Commons." 

He  made  his  first  speech  in  Commons  soon  after  his 
entrance,  upon  the  reduction  of  import  duties.  He  was 
a  trifle  nervous  at  first,  but  thrusting  his  hand  into  the 
breast  of  his  waistcoat,  he  soon  recovered  his  self-pos- 
session, and  spoke  with  his  rare  simplicity  and  masterly 
eloquence.  In  the  autumn  of  1843,  September  28, 
Bright  spoke  at  the  first  Anti-Corn-Law  League  monthly 
meeting,  held  in  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  London,  and  a 
month  later  at  the  same  place.  The  stage,  pit,  boxes, 
and  gallery  were  crowded  to  their  utmost  capacity. 

"We  have  seen,"  he  said,  "fallacy  after  fallacy  scat- 
tered to  the  winds ;  we  have  seen  foe  after  foe  driven 
from  every  field  ;  we  have  seen  triumph  after  trium})h 
achieved ;  and  now,  from  that  small  room  in  which 
seven  men  met,  we  are  here  assembled  in  this  gorgeous 
building,  and  with  this  great,  this  magnificent  audience. 
And  it  can  be  but  the  harbinger  of  the  triumph  of  this 
great  cause.  .  .  . 

"  We  might  lay  the  whole  world  under  contribution  if 


a 


if 


JOUN  BRIGHT. 


213 


T;e  had  free  trade.  All  nature  lies  extended  before  us; 
her  vast  treasure-houses  are  open  to  us,  — there  is  noth- 
ing that  is  good  for  man  under  the  sun  that  may  not 
be  brought  to  England  in  return  for  the  produce  of 
England's  industry.  .  .  . 

"  And  when  our  labors  are  over,  when  our  warfare  is 
accomplished,  our  consolation  and  our  reward  shall  be  — 
and  every  man  who  has  helped  us  shall  participate  in  it  — 
that  in  our  day  and  generation  we  have  been  permitted 
to  advance  at  least  one  great  step  toward  the  glorious 
and  the  promised  time,  when  human  laws  shall  harmonize 
with  the  sublime  injunction  of  the  Christian  code,  and 
when  man,  as  an  individual  or  in  communities,  shall 
accept  and  obey  that  divinest  precept  of  them  all : 
*  Whatever  ye  would  that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye 
even  so  to  them.' " 

Night  after  night,  when  not  busy  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  Briglit,  Cobden,  and  others  continued  to  speak 
to  enthusiastic  audiences.  Cobden  was  persuasive,  con- 
versational, clear,  argumentative;  Bright  impassioned, 
earnest,  with  a  vein  of  humor,  poetical,  powerful.  He 
had  studied  liistory  carefully,  that  he  might  know  the 
causes  of  the  rise  and  fall  of  nations ;  he  had  loved  the 
Bible  and  jNIilton  from  a  child,  and  had  made  them  his 
daily  study. 

The  struggle  against  the  Corn  Laws  went  on.  Every 
year,  ]\L  Charles  Villiers,  an  able  member  of  the 
aristocracy,  moved  in  the  House  of  Commons  the  total 
and  immediate  repeal  of  the  Corn  Laws.  Like  all 
reforms  it  was  first  heartily  laughed  at,  then  year  by  year 
the  number  against  it  grew  less  and  less. 

Thomas  Carlyle  took  up  the  cause.  He  said,  "H  I 
were  the  conservative  party  of  England,  I  would  not  for 


i 


214 


JOHN  nniGiiT. 


U     ti 


a  hundred  thousand  pounds  an  hour  allow  those  Corn 
Laws  to  continue.  All  Totosi  and  Golconda  put  together 
would  not  purchase  my  assent  to  them.  Do  you  count 
what  treasures  of  bitter  indignation  they  are  laying  up 
for  you  in  every  just  English  heart  ?  " 

On  May  8,  1845,  a  great  bazaar  was  opened  in  Coven t 
Garden  Theatre,  London,  with  four  hundred  ladies  as 
saleswomen.  The  costliest  products  of  tlie  loom,  tlie 
daintiest  work  of  woman's  hands,  were  voluntary  offer- 
ings to  the  cause.  Over  one  hundred  and  tw<Mity-tive 
tliousand  persons  visited  the  bazaar,  and  it  yielded  over 
twent}  -five  thousand  dollars  to  the  League.  Tlie  i)apers 
gave  glowing  accounts  of  it ;  })eople  talked  about  it  at 
every  fireside,  and  all  this  helped  to  agitate  the  question. 

A  novel  feature  for  making  money,  and  at  tlie  same 
^''■Tie  disseminating  knowledge',  was  a  post-office.  The 
visitor  inquired  for  a  letter,  and  at  the  regular  rate  for 
non-prepaid  letters,  was  given  a  package  which  contained 
a  full  assortment  of  the  tracts  of  the  League.  These 
were  carxled  home,  and  helped  to  do  effective  work. 

Richard  Cobden,  who  had  left  his  business,  which  was 
netting  him  over  ten  thousand  pounds  a  year,  largely 
in  the  hands  of  his  brothers,  had  now  become  so 
embarrassed  financially  that  he  felt  he  must  give  up  the 
Corn  Law  agitation,  if  he  would  provide  for  his  family. 
It  was  a  bitter  alternative.  The  one  object  of  his  life, 
for  which  ne  had  sacrificed  all,  must  be  put  aside.  He 
at  once  wrote  to  Mr.  P)right,  who  answered  with  all  the 
tenderness  of  a  woman :  "  ]>e  assured  that  in  all  this 
disappointment  you  have  my  heartfelt  sympathy.  We 
have  worked  long  and  hard  and  cordially  together ;  and 
I  can  say  most  truly  that  the  more  I  have  known  of  you, 
the  more  have  1  had  reason  to  admire  and  esteem  you ; 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


21  fi 


and  now  when  a  lioavy  cloud  seems  upon  us,  I  must 
not  wholly  give  up  the  hope  tliat  we  may  yet  labor  in 
the  good  cause  until  all  is  gained  for  which  we  have 
striven." 

!Mr.  Bright  soon  reached  jSlanchester,  and  he  and 
another  friend  or  two  procured  the  means  whereby  for 
the  time  jNIr.  Cobden  was  relieved  from  money  dillicul- 
ties,  and  again  gave  himself  unreservedly  to  the  llepeal. 
When  asked  by  a  friend  how  he  could  either  work  or 
rest  with  such  sorrows  hanging  over  him,  he  replied, 
"  Oh  !  when  I  am  about  public  affairs  I  never  think  of 
it ;  it  does  not  touch  me ;  I  am  asleep  the  moment  my 
head  is  on  the  pillow."  He  said,  later  in  life,  '•  If  I  had 
not  the  faculty  of  sleeping  like  a  dead  fish,  in  five  minutes 
after  the  most  exciting  mental  effort,  and  with  the  cer- 
tainty of  having  oblivion  for  six  consecutive  hours,  I 
should  not  have  been  alive  now." 

Again  the  two  men  labored  day  and  night  for  the 
measure.  They  were  away  from  their  families  so  con- 
stantly, that  ^[r.  Cobden's  only  son  Ki(^hard  used  to  ask 
in  his  childish  simplicity,  when  his  father  came  to  see 
them,  "  AVhen  he  was  going  home?''''  thinking  ho  must 
live  in  some  other  city.  Mr.  IJright  spoke  in  no  un- 
certain terms  in  the  House  of  Commons:  "It  is  tlie 
remark  of  a  beautiful  writer,  that  'to  have  known  noth- 
ing but  misery  is  the  most  portentous  condition  under 
which  human  nature  can  start  on  its  course.'  Has  your 
agricultural  laborer  ever  known  anything  but  misery  ? 
He  is  born  in  a  miserable  hovel,  which  in  mockery  is 
termed  a  house  or  a  home  ;  he  is  reared  in  penury ;  he 
passes  a  life  of  hopeless  and  unrequited  toil,  and  the 
jail  or  the  union  house  is  before  him  as  the  only  asylum 
on  this  side  of  the  pauper's  grave.     Is  this  the  result  of 


^M 


I 


!i  ,, 


I 


u: 


216 


JOHN  niiianT. 


your  protoction  to  native  industry  ?  Have  you  cared 
for  the  laborer  till,  from  a  home  of  comfort,  lie  has  but 
a  hovel  for  shelter  ?  and  have  you  cherished  him  into 
starvation  and  rags  ?  I  tell  you  what  your  boasted  pro- 
tection is,  —  it  is  a  protection  of  native  idleness  at  the 
('X))ense  of  the  impoverishment  of  native  industry." 

In  the  Free  Trade  Hall,  Bright  said:  "We  are  enter- 
ing the  seventh  year  of  our  labors  in  this  great  cause, 
and  there  may  be  some  who  at  the  thought  of  this 
despond.  If  there  be  any  who  have  a  right  to  despond, 
or  who  might  be  forgiven  if  they  feel  faint-hearted,  it  is 
surely  those  who  have  labored  hard  in  this  cause  ;  but  as 
far  as  the  council  of  the  League  are  concerned,  I  can 
state  to  this  meeting  and  the  public  that  there  was  never 
a  time  when  they  were  more  convin  A  than  they  are 
now  that  they  were  right  in  the  beginning,  and  are 
right  still,  and  that  in  their  cause,  as  in  all  others,  right 
must  speedily  triumph.  .  .  . 

"  I  often  wonder  why  it  is  that  men  are  so  willing  to 
bow  their  necks  to  men  who  are  ornamented  with  stars 
and  garters  and  titles ;  for  I  am  sure,  the  more  I  come 
in  contact  with  their  characters,  the  more  I  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  is  something  far  beyond  titles  which 
constitutes  true  nobility  of  character. 

"And  there  is  not  any  creature  that  crawls  the  earth, 
to  my  mind,  more  despicable  and  more  pitiable  than  the 
man  who  sacrifices  the  interests  of  his  own  class,  of  his 
own  order,  and  of  his  own  country,  merely  that  he  may 
toady  somebody  who  has  a  title  to  his  name." 

A  friend  once  asked  Mv.  Bright,  after  his  return  from 
one  of  his  arduous  lecture  tours,  if,  after  so  much  oi)po- 
sition,  he  really  expected  success  at  the  last.  The 
unconquerable  John  Briglit  replied:  "One  day  lately  I 


JOHN  li RIGHT. 


217 


was  going  along  the  road,  and  I  saw  a  man  breaking 
stones ;  he  was  haniinering  away  at  a  very  large  stone 
with  a  hammer  that  had  a  long  handle  but  a  very  small 
head.  Well,  I  tlioiight,  what  a  simpleton  tliis  man  is  ! 
why  does  he  not  use  a  sledge-hammer  and  break  it  at 
onee  ?  However,  he  kept  knocking  and  knocking  for 
some  time,  when  at  last  the  stone  flev/  in  pieces ;  and  I 
at  once  saw  that  if  we  kept  persevering  in  our  attacks, 
the  Corn  Laws  will  go  just  as  suddenly." 

The  Corn  Laws  were,  in  fact,  "  going  suddenly,"  and 
the  time  was  drawing  near.  Tlie  harvest  of  1845,  owing 
to  frequent  rains,  was  very  poor,  and  famine  stared  the 
people  in  the  face.  The  potato  crop  in  Ireland  was  a 
failure.  The  League  redoubled  its  efforts.  It  was 
decided  to  raise  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds 
at  once.  At  a  large  meeting  in  Manchester,  sixty  thou- 
sand pounds  were  subscribed  in  an  hour  and  a  half,  John 
Bright  and  his  brothers  giving  one  thousand  pounds. 

Bright  spoke  to  an  audience  in  Covent  Garden  Theatre, 
Backed  from  floor  to  roof.  "  Multitudes,"  lie  said,  "  have 
died  of  hunger  in  the  United  Kingdom  since  we  first 
asked  the  Government  to  repeal  the  Corn  Law ;  and 
although  the  great  and  the  powerful  m;iy  not  regard 
those  who  suffer  mutely  and  die  in  silence,  yet  the 
recording  angel  will  note  down  their  patient  endurance, 
and  the  heavy  guilt  of  those  by  whom  they  have  been 
sacrificed." 

Many  persons  added  fuel  to  the  flame  by  their  cruel, 
if  well-meant,  suggestions.  The  Duke  of  Norfolk  rec- 
ommended the  poor  "  to  feed  upon  warm  water  and 
curry  powder  !  " 

Sir  Kobert  Peel  had  become  Prime  Minister  in  1841, 
with  the  understanding  that  he  would  sustain  the  Corn 


m 


Hi    ! 


ft' 

m 


m 


i:i 


?  ill 


I- 

il  ill 


218 


JOHN  niUGIIT. 


Laws.  Lord  Melbourne,  his  predecessor,  had  said  two 
years  previously,  "  To  leave  the  whole  agricultural 
interest  without  protection,  I  declare  before  God  that  I 
think  it  the  wildest  and  maddest  scheme  that  has  ever 
entered  into  the  imagination  of  mr-n  to  conceive." 
The  "  sliding  scale  "  of  Sir  Eobert  was  passed  in  1842. 
He  was  pressed  on  every  side.  Lord  John  Kussell,  after- 
wards Prime  Minister,  wrote  from  Edinburgh  to  his  con- 
stituents, the  electors  of  the  City  of  London,  that  he  was 
in  favor  of  the  total  repeal  of  the  Corn  Laws.  "  The 
government,"  he  said,  "appear  to  be  waiting  for  some 
excuse  to  give  up  the  present  Corn  Laws.  Let  the 
people,  by  petition,  by  address,  by  remonstrance,  afford 
them  the  excuse  they  seek."  He  believed  the  system 
"  had  been  proved  to  be  the  blight  of  commerce,  the 
bane  of  agriculture,  the  source  of  bitter  division  among 
classes,  the  cause  of  penury,  fever,  mortality,  and  crime 
among  the  people." 

Macaulay  had  also  become  a  convert  to  the  new  doc- 
trine. He  told  Lord  John  Kussell  that  "  he  stipulated 
for  one  thing  only,  —  total  and  immediate  repeal  of  the 
Corn  Laws." 

Bright  was  giving  well-clirccted  blows.  "Sir  Robert 
Peel,"  he  said,  "  came  from  the  very  county  where  the 
League  had  its  origin  ;  and  his  fortune  was  made  out  of 
those  little  delicate  fibres  of  cotton  which  are  destined 
yet  to  revolutionize  and  change  the  face  of  things  in 
this  country.  He  sprang  from  commerce  ;  and  until  he 
has  proved  it  himself,  T  will  never  believe  that  there  is 
any  man  —  much  less  will  I  believe  that  he  is  the  man  — 
who  would  go  down  to  his  grave  having  had  the  power 
to  deliver  that  commerce,  and  yet  not  having  the  manli- 
ness, honesty,  and  courage  to  do  it. 


)) 


^\^. 


JOHN  nniGiiT. 


219 


The  Protectionists,  with  INIr.  Disraeli  at  their  head, 
felt  that  Peel  was  going  over  to  Free  Trade.  "  For  my 
part,"  said  Benjamin  Disraeli,  "  if  we  are  to  have  free 
trade,  I,  who  honor  genius,  prefer  that  such  measures 
should  be  proposed  by  the  honorable  member  for  Stock- 
port [Cobden],  than  by  one  who,  though  skilled  in  par- 
liamentary manoeuvres,  has  tampered  with  the  generous 
confidence  of  a  great  people  and  of  a  great  party." 

On  January  27,  1846,  the  beginning  of  the  end  had 
come.  The  House  of  Commons  was  crowded  by  the 
distinguished  of  the  realm.  Peel  unfolded  his  plan  of 
Free  Trade  :  gradual  repeal  of  the  Corn  Laws,  with  com- 
plete free  trade  in  corn  after  three  years.  The  debate 
was  adjourned  to  February  9,  and  was  continued  till  the 
16th.  On  the  latter  evening  Peel  rose  to  speak  at  a 
quarter  before  ten,  and  closed  a  powerful  and  earnest 
speech  at  one  o'clock.  The  following  evening  Bright 
spoke.  Keferring  to  Peel's  address,  he  called  it :  "  An 
address,  I  will  venture  to  say,  more  powerful  and  more 
to  be  admired  than  any  address  which  has  been  deliv- 
ered in  this  House  within  the  memory  of  any  member 
of  it. 

"I  -vatched  the  right  honorable  baronet,  as  he  went 
home  last  night,  and  for  the  first  time  I  envied  his 
feelings.  That  address  has  been  circulated  by  scores 
of  thousands  throughout  this  kingdom,  and  is  speeding 
to  every  part  of  the  world ;  and  wherever  there  is  a 
man  who  loves  justice,  and  wherever  there  is  a  suffer- 
ing creature  whom  you  [referring  to  the  Protectionists] 
have  trampled  under  foot,  that  address  will  give  joy  to 
the  heart  of  the  one,  and  hope  to  the  heart  of  the  other." 

The  debate  was  continued  on  February  19,  20,  2.1  to 
the  27th,  and  through  the  whole  c  i  ]\Iarcli  to  the  27ch. 


m 


im-'VM 


m 


'.; 


!l  nil 


!l 


220 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


Meantime  trade  became  more  and  more  disturbed 
through  this  agitated  condition  of  the  country.  On 
May  4  the  debate  was  renewed,  and  continued  till  the 
morning  of  the  16th,  when,  at  half-past  four,  as  the 
sun  rose  and  streamed  into  the  House,  the  Bill  for 
Free  Trade  passed  by  a  majority  of  ninety-eight.  On 
June  25  the  Bill  passed  the  House  of  Lords,  largely 
tlirough  the  influence  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  who, 
though  he  believed  in  protection,  wished  "to  support 
Sir  Kobert  Peel's  administration  of  the  government  for 
the  Queen."  "A  good  government  for  the  country,"  said 
the  old  warrior,  "is  more  important  than  Corn  Laws 
or  any  other  consideration." 

As  Peel  expected,  he  was  soon  obliged  to  resign 
through  a  combination  of  the  votes  of  the  Opposition 
and  the  Protectionists.  He  made  his  closing  and  elo- 
quent speech  June  29. 

The  little  band  of  seven  men  in  the  upper  room  in 
Manchester  had  accomplished  their  marvellous  work. 

On  July  8,  1846,  Rochdale  celebrated  the  triumph  of 
their  famous  townsman,  then  under  thirty-five  years  of 
age.  A  procession  of  the  trades  was  formed :  the  corn- 
millers  carried  a  huge  loaf  weighing  sixty  pounds,  with 
'jhe  names  of  Cobden  and  Bright  on  the  sides.  There 
were  twelve  thousand  persons  on  foot  behind  the  num- 
erous carriages.  The  seven  hundred  who  Avorked  for  the 
Messrs.  Bright  carried  twenty-five  silk  flags.  Houses 
along  the  route  were  decorated  with  banners  and 
flowers. 

Mr.  Bright  said  in  his  speech  to  the  people,  in  his 
hope  for  a  better  state  of  things  :  "  Not  that  i)Gople  can 
live  without  work,  or  have  large  incomes  without  toiling 
at  some  honest  industry.  ,  .  .  We  shall  hrve  a  steadier 


4 


JOHN  li RIGHT. 


091 


tradn,  a  steadier  increase  of  prosperity,  a  steadier  profit  for 
capital,  steadier  wages  for  work-people,  and  I  trust  that 
those  things  shall  cause  a  continuance  of  that  harmony 
;nid  good  feeling  which  now  happily  prevail  amongst  all 
classes  in  this  great  populous  manufacturing  district." 

The  League  was  disbanded  July  2,  and  its  members 
turned  themselves  to  other  work.  Cobden,  having  b(^- 
come  a  poor  man,  —  his  business  had  been  prostrated 
through  his  neglect, — was  presented,  in  1848,  by  his 
friends,  with  £7G,759.  He  lost  considerable  of  this  in 
investments  in  American  lailways,  and  in  18C0  his  friends 
gave  him  £40,000  more. 

Mr.  Bright  was  presented  with  a  library  of  twelve  hun- 
dred volumes,  history,  biography,  and  poetry,  in  an  oak 
bookcase.  The  supports  between  the  pjlass  panels  are 
elaborately  carved  with  sheaves  of  corn,  figs,  grapes, 
apples,  and  pears,  while  surmounting  the  cornice  is  a 
vessel  homeward  bound,  and  on  the  quay  representations 
of  barrels  of  flour  and  bales  of  cotton. 

John  Bright's  voice  had  not  been  silent  about  other 
matters  during  these  years.  He  vigorously  opposed  the 
Game  Laws,  and  at  his  own  er.pense  of  £300  publisiied 
evidence  laid  before  a  select  committee  which  he  moved 
in  the  House  of  Commons.  He  said  to  the  farmers  : 
"  You  take  a  farm  on  a  yearly  tenancy,  or  on  a  le.ise, 
with  an  understanding,  or  a  specific  agreement,  that  the 
game  shall  be  reserved  to  the  owner.  .  .  .  You  plough 
and  sow,  and  watch  the  growing  crops  with  anxiety  and 
hope ;  you  rise  early,  and  eat  the  bread  of  carefulness  , 
rent  day  comes  twice  a  year,  with  its  inexorable  demand  ; 
and  yet  you  are  doomed  too  frequently  to  see  the  fertil- 
ity which  Providence  bestows  and  your  industry  would 
secure,  blighted  and  destroyed  by  creatures  which  would 


1 

t 

I 

i 

I 


ia 


li 


M 


Jjl! 


222 


JOUN  BRIGHT. 


be  deemed  vermin  but  for  the  sanction  wliicli  the  law 
and  your  customs  give  to  their  preservation,  and  which 
exist  for  no  advantage  to  you  and  for  no  good  to  the 
public,  but  solely  to  afford  a  few  days'  amusement  in 
the  year  to  the  proprietor  of  the  soil. 

"  Tlio  seed  you  sow  is  eaten  by  the  pheasants ;  your 
young  growing  grain  is  bitten  down  by  the  hares  and 
rabbits  ;  and  your  ripening  crops  are  trampled  and  in- 
jured by  a  live  stock  which  yields  you  no  return." 

Mr.  Bright  opposed  the  Ten-Hours  Bill  for  the  factory 
operatives.  "  He  believed  that  parliamentary  interven- 
tion in  the  relations  between  capital  and  labor  would 
prove  radically  injurious  to  both,  and  that  an  enlight- 
ened public  opinion  and  the  infallible  action  of  economic 
law  would  give  to  the  working-classes  the  power  to  right 
their  own  wrongs." 

As  John  Bright  had  built  a  commodious  schoolhouse 
near  his  mills,  for  the  use  of  the  children  of  his  work- 
people, where  on  four  nights  a  week  instruction  was 
given  to  young  people;  as  his  firm  defrayed  the  ex- 
penses of  a  course  of  lectures  each  winter,  and  paid 
three-fourths  of  the  expenses  of  a  teacher  to  give  in- 
struction in  music  to  the  employes,  provided  them  a 
library  of  nearly  a  thousand  volumes,  with  papers  and 
magazines,  the  cost  of  membership  being  a  penny  a  week, 
and  employed  a  person  to  give  his  whole  time  in  looking 
after  the  needs  and  comforts  of  all  the  families,  — it  was, 
perhaps,  quite  nataral  for  him  to  suppose  that  no  inter- 
vention was  needed  between  capital  and  labor. 

He  had  the  courage  to  say,  when  he  was  a  candidate 
for  Manchester,  and  was  hissed  because  he  opposed  the 
bill,  "  Well,  I  may  be  wrong ;  but  if  I  am  wrong,  I  am 
wrong  in  ignorance  and  not  in  intention.     I  boldly  stated 


f 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


223 


ras, 
ter- 


my  opinion  ;  .  .  .  henceforth  we  shall  have  an  opjior- 
tiinity  of  seeing  which  is  right,  —  the  advocates  of  the 
measure,  or  its  opponents.  If  it  be  successful,  I  shall 
rejoice  ;  if  it  be  not,  I  shall  be  willing  to  help  in  its 
amendment."  When  his  own  workmen  labored  for  the 
bill,  and  it  was  prophesied  that  they  would  lose  their 
places  in  consequence,  —  the  prophets  were  mistaken. 
Honest  John  Bright  believed  in  the  liberty  of  every 
human  being.  He  would  not  interfere  with  the  opinions 
of  others,  for  he  had  too  often  said  in  public,  "  Liberty 
is  too  precious  and  sound  a  thing  ever  to  be  intrusted  to 
the  keeping  of  another  man.  Be  the  guardians  of  your 
own  rights  and  liberties  ;  if  you  be  not,  you  will  have  no 
protectors,  but  spoilers  of  all  that  you  possess." 

The  Ten-Hours  Bill  was  carried  in  1847.  The  lessen- 
ing of  hours  proved  a  blessing  to  the  laborers,  though, 
like  tlie  repeal  of  the  Corn  Laws,  it  was  not  obtained 
till  after  many,  many  years  of  struggle. 

On  June  10,  1847,  Mr.  Bright  married  the  daughter 
of  Mr.  William  Leatham,  a  banker.  In  accordance  with 
the  ceremony  of  the  "  Friends,"  in  their  meeting-house, 
jNIr.  Bright  took  the  right  hand  of  the  bride,  saying  : 
"Friends,  I  take  my  friend  jNlargaret  Elizabeth  Leatham 
to  be  my  wife,  promising,  through  Divine  assistance,  to 
be  unto  her  a  loving  and  faithful  husband  until  it  shall 
please  the  Lord  by  death  to  separate  us."  After  her 
response,  some  moments  of  silence  ensued,  when  one 
of  the  congregation  offered  prayer,  the  whole  assembl}^ 
standing.  The  certiiicate  or  declaration  of  marriage 
was  then  read,  and  signed  by  a  large  number  of  the 
congregation. 

It  had  been  six  years  since  "  the  light  and  sunshine 
of  his  home  had  been   extinguished"    in   the  death  of 


1 1   .-a 

■  '  H  'if 

'1 


i 


;  H 


Mil  '■ '  * 


\m' 


m 


iU>'      III 

m 


i 


■?!  I 


224 


JOHN  BIUGIIT. 


Elizabeth  Priestman,  and  be  had  left  to  him  only  "  the 
memory  of  a  sainted  life  and  a  too  brief  happiness." 

He  brought  his  bride  to  his  home  in  Rochdale,  called 
"  One  Ash,"  from  a  solitary  ash-tree  which  grew  on  the 
site.  "  ]\Ioney-ash,"  or  "  Many-ash,"  was  the  house  of 
John  Grattan,  in  Derbyshire,  a  Quaker  preacher,  who 
died  in  1712.  He  was  arrested  several  times  for  preach- 
ing, lingered  in  jail  five  years,  speaking  of  his  faith  to 
the  populace  from  behind  the  gratings  of  his  cell.  His 
memory  was  treasured  by  the  "  Friends."  John  IJright's 
father  had  been  fined  again  and  again  for  not  paying 
Church  rates,  so  that  the  devotion  of  the  family  to  the 
Quaker  faith  grew  stronger  and  stronger.  "  One  Ash," 
in  the  integrity,  fearlessness,  and  eloquence  of  its  owner, 
became  a  counterpart  of  "Many-ash"  in  Derbyshire. 

The  home  was  indeed  a  rest  to  the  man  who  had 
given  seven  years  of  untiring  effort  to  the  repeal  of  the 
Corn  Laws.  His  evenings  were  spent  in  reading  or  con- 
versing with  Mrs.  Bright.  In  the  course  of  years,  seven 
children  were  born  in  the  home,  and  in  them  Mr.  Bright 
found  his  comfort  and  joy. 

The  library  and  the  dining-room  were  set  apart  to 
the  brain-worker,  so  that  as  he  thought,  or  wrote,  or 
read,  as  he  tired  of  one  he  strolled  into  the  other  for  ;i 
change.  Believed  of  all  domestic  care  by  his  efhcicnt 
wife,  he  gave  his  time  to  the  nation,  and  England  has 
been  the  greater  and  better  for  the  gift. 

The  famine  in  Ireland,  which  hastened  the  repeal  of 
the  Corn  Laws,  liad  destroyed  food  to  the  value  of 
£10,000,000.  Crimes  had  increased  to  an  alarming  ex- 
tent, and  a  Coercion  lUU  was  proposed  in  the  House  of 
Commons.  Mr.  Bright  had  studiivl  Ireland,  and  knew 
her  wrongs.     He  presented  a  petition  signed  by  twenty 


m 


JOHN   BRIGHT. 


\iiy 


eal  of 
[lie  of 
|ng  ex- 
)use  of 
knew 
twenty 


thousand  residents  of  Manchester,  against  the  bill,  but  it 
passed.  He  said  before  the  House :  "  It  is  the  duty  of 
Government  to  bring  in  a  Sale  of  Estates  Bill,  and 
make  it  easy  for  land-owners  who  wish  to  dispose  of 
their  estates,  to  do  so.  .  .  .  They  should  pass  a  law  by 
which  the  system  of  entailing  estates  should  for  the 
future  be  prevented.  [Laughter.]  I  can  assure  honor- 
able gentlemen  who  laugh  at  this,  that  at  some  not- 
distant  day,  this  must  be  done,  and  not  only  in  Ireland 
only,  but  in  England  also.  It  is  an  absurd  and  mon- 
strous system,  for  it  binds,  as  it  were,  the  living  under 
the  power  of  the  dead.  .  .  . 

''  Perhaps  I  shall  be  told  that  the  laws  of  entail  and 
primogeniture  are  necessary  for  the  maintenance  of  our 
aristocratic  institutions ;  but  if  the  evils  of  Ireland 
spring  from  this  source,  I  say,  perish  your  aristocratic 
institutions,  rather  than  that  a  whole  nation  should  be 
in  this  terrible  condition.  If  your  aristocratic  families 
would  rear  up  their  children  in  habits  of  business,  and 
with  some  notions  of  duty  and  prudence,  these  mischiev- 
ous arrangements  would  not  be  required,  and  they  would 
retain  in  their  possession  estates  at  least  as  large  as 
is  compatible  with  the  interests  of  the  rest  of  the 
community." 

Again,  he  said:  "Lock  at  Ireland;  you  have  there 
forty  thousand  men  maintained  out  of  the  taxes,  and 
another  ten  thousand,  also  maintained  out  of  the  taxes, 
—  in  the  shape  of  armed  police.  Fifty  thousand  men 
in  Ireland,  armed  to  keep  the  peace,  under  a  system 
where  peace  is  impossible,  in  a  country,  where,  for 
years,  the  misgovernment  was  such  that  in  Europe  it 
found  no  parallel.  In  that  unfortunate  country  you 
witness  a  landed  proprietary,  all  of  whose  inclinations 


!i' 


I'; 


I      ;■■     ' 

1 .1 

1 

*     .5 


i!  1 


m 


1  I 


i     I 


226 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


and  feelings  were  in  direct  hostility  to  the  population 
Avhere  their  estates  ^vere  situate ;  and  there  the  pi'0})rie- 
tors  now  are  reduced  to  beg2''T.iy  and  ruin  —  iind  i)auiiers 
crawl  up  their  staircases  and  lialls.  .  .  .  Ic  is  to  uphold 
such  a  sy-tem  that  this  vast  force  has  beei-.  kept  in 
Ireland." 

When  the  Crimean  War  b.^came  imminent  in  1853, 
]\[r.  Bright  used  all  his  eloquence  and  power  against  it. 
I'alnierston  was  for  war,  the  prer^s  and  people  became 
eager  to  cripple  Russia,  and  Bright  spoke  to  deaf  ears. 
A  later  generation  has  learned  to  love  peace  and  seek 
it,  under  the  teaching  of  so  great  a  master. 

"What  is  war?"  he  asked.  "I  believe  that  half 
the  peojjle  that  talk  about  war  have  not  the  slightest 
idea  of  what  it  is.  In  a  short  sentence  it  may  be 
summed  up  to  be  tlie  combination  and  concentration 
of  all  the  horrors,  atrocities,  crimes,  and  sufferings  of 
which  human  nature  on  tliis  globe  is  capable.  ... 

"  If  you  want  war,  let  it  be  for  something  that  has  at 
least  the  features  of  grandeur  and  of  nobility  about  it, 
but  not  for  the  miserable,  decrepit,  moribund  govern- 
ment which  is  now  enthroned,  but  which  cannot  last 
long,  in  the  city  of  Constantinople.  .  .  .  They  tell  us,  if 
Tiussia  gets  to  Constantinople,  Englishmen  will  not  be 
able  to  get  to  India  by  the  overland  journey.  .  .  .  They 
tell  us,  further,  that  the  Emperor  of  Ilussia  would  get 
India.  That  is  a  still  more  remote  contingency.  If  I 
were  asked  as  to  the  probabilities  of  it,  I  should  say 
that,  judging  from  our  past  and  present  policy  in  Asia, 
we  are  more  likely  to  invade  Russia  from  India  than 
Russia  is  to  invade  us  in  India.  The  policy  we  pursue 
in  Asia  is  much  more  aggressive,  aggrandizing,  and  war- 
like than  any  tliat  Russia  has  pursued  or  threatened 
during  our  time. 


JOHN    liliWIlT. 


227 


"But  it  is  just  possible  tluxt  Russia  may  be  more 
powerful  by  acquiring  Turkey.  ...  I  should  like  to 
ask  whether,  even  if  that  be  true,  it  is  a  sufficient 
reason  for  our  going  to  war,  and  entering  on  what,  per- 
haps, may  be  a  long,  ruinous,  and  sanguinary  struggle 
with  a  powerful  empire  like  Russia.  .  .  . 

"  I  confess,  when  I  think  of  the  tremendous  perils 
into  which  unthinking  men  —  men  who  do  not  intend 
to  fight  themselves — are  willing  to  drag  or  to  hurry 
this  country,  I  am  amazed  how  they  can  trifle  with  in- 
terests so  vast,  and  consecLueuces  so  much  beyond  their 
calculation." 

Bright  looked  forward  to  the  day  in  Britain  (and  God 
speed  it  in  America  as  well !)  when  the  people  and  the 
churches  "  shall  not  only  accept  and  believe  in  the 
prophecy,  but  labor  earnestly  for  its  fulfilment,  that 
there  shall  come  a  time  —  a  blessed  time  —  a  time  which 
shall  last  forever  —  when  'nation  shall  not  lift  up  sword 
against  nation,  neither  shall  they  learn  war  any  more.'  " 

The  words  of  President  Grant  may  well  be  remem- 
bered :  "  Though  [  have  been  \  .jJned  as  a  soldier,  and 
participated  in  many  battles,  there  never  was  a  time 
when,  in  my  opinion,  some  way  could  not  be  found  of 
preventing  the  drawing  of  the  sword.  I  look  forward  to 
;ui  epoch  when  a  great  recognized  Committee  of  Nations 
will  settle  international  diiferences,  instead  of  keeping 
large  standing  armies  as  they  do  in  Europe." 

When  Bright  was  asked  to  attend  a  meeting  in  Man- 
chester for  the  War  Fund,  he  replied :  "  I  will  have  no 
part  in  this  terrible  crime.  ]\[y  hands  shall  be  unstained 
with  the  blood  which  is  being  shed.  .  .  .  You  have  read 
the  tidings  from  the  Crimea.  .  .  .  Russians,  in  their 
frenzy  or  their  terror,  shooting  Englishmen  who  would 


iLiia 


ll 


s;; 


'•  V 


1 '' 


l^f,]{ 


ill 


^1 


228 


JOTIN  nniariT. 


have  offered  them  water  to  queneh  their  ag^ny  of  thirst; 
Englishmen,  in  crowr-?,  rifling  the  pockets  of  the  men 
they  had  slain  or  wounded,  taking  their  few  shillings  or 
roubles,  and  discovering  among  the  plunder  of  the 
stitfening  corpses,  images  of  the  Virgin  and  the  Child. 
.  .  .  This  is  war,  —  every  crime  which  human  nature 
can  commit  or  imagine,  every  horror  it  can  perpetrate 
or  suffer ;  and  this  it  is  which  our  Christian  govern- 
ment recklessly  plunges  into,  and  which  so  many  of 
our  countrymen  at  this  moment  think  it  patriotic  to 
applaud ! " 

This  letter  was  widely  circulated  in  Russia,  and  pro- 
voked great  discussion  and  displeasure  at  home. 

For  upwards  of  two  years.  Bright  opposed  the  war 
party  in  the  House  of  Commons,  almost  alone.  "Even 
if  I  were  alone,"  he  said,  "  if  my  voice  were  the  solitary 
one  raised  amid  the  din  of  arms  and  the  clamors  of  a 
venal  press,  I  should  have  the  consolation  I  have  to- 
night—  and  which  I  trust  will  be  mine  to  the  last 
moment  of  ray  existence  —  the  priceless  consolation  that 
I  have  never  uttered  one  word  that  could  promote  the 
squandering  of  my  country's  treasure,  or  the  spilling  of 
one  single  drop  of  my  country's  blood." 

His  memorable  speech,  to  a  hushed  audience,  in  the 
House,  on  February  23,  1855,  is  probably  in  every  ora- 
torical collection  on  both  continents  :  "  The  Angel  of 
Death  has  been  abroad  throughout  the  land;  you  may 
almost  hear  the  beating  of  his  wings.  There  is  no  ^ne, 
as  when  the  first-born  were  slain  of  old,  to  sprinkle  with 
blood  the  lintel  and  the  two  sideposts  of  our  doors,  that 
he  may  spare  and  pass  on.  He  takes  his  victims  from 
the  castle  of  the  noble,  the  mansion  of  the  wealthy, 
and  the  cottage  of  the  poor  and  the  lowly ;  and  it  is  on 


JOHN  inilGIIT. 


ro- 


'1    of 
may 

with 

,  that 

from 

ulthy, 

is  on 


behalf  of  all   these   classes   that   I   make   this    solemn 
appeal." 

The  war  spirit  grew  stronger  ;  ]\rr.  Bright  was  hissed 
and  hooted  by  mobs,  ''  burnt,''  he  says,  "  in  effigy  by 
those  I  was  most  anxious  to  serve,"  and  finally  both  he 
and  Cobden  lost  their  seats  in  Parliament. 

Cobden,  in  1856,  had  buried  his  only  son,  a  promising 
youth  of  fifteen,  who  died  away  from  home  at  school ; 
died,  and  was  buried,  from  an  attack  of  scarlet  fever, 
before  his  parents  knew  of  his  illness.  Cobden  could 
never  be  the  same  after  it;  and  nine  years  later,  just 
before  he  died,  in  1865,  he  sr?id  to  Bright  as  they  strolled 
out  in  the  fields  together  at  his  home  at  Midhurst,  point- 
ing to  a  little  church  near  by,  "  Yes ;  my  poor  boy  lies 
there,  and  I  shall  very  soon  be  with  him."  Cobden  de- 
clined the  offer  of  a  baronetcy  from  Lord  Palmerston, 
preferring,  like  Michael  Faraday,  to  be  plain  Richai  I 
Cobden  to  the  last.  He  also  refused  the  position  of 
Chairman  of  the  Board  of  Audit,  worth  £2,000  a  year, 
from  a  fear  that  his  health  '«70uld  not  permit  the  complete 
performance  of  his  duties.  Mr.  Bright's  health  had 
broken,  through  the  strain  of  parliamentary  work  for 
nearly  fifteen  years,  and  when  he  suffered  defeat  at  the 
liands  of  the  Manchester  people,  he  was  already  in  Italy, 
trying  to  regain  his  strength. 

While  at  Nice,  the  Empress  of  Russia,  who  was  stay- 
ing there,  invited  him  to  an  interview.  "  I  know  you 
have  been  just  to  my  country,"  said  the  Empress  ;  and 
IMr.  Bright  responded,  that  he  had  wished  to  be,  and 
believed  he  had  been,  just  to  both  countries. 

There  w\as  deep  regret  in  many  quarters,  that  "  the 
greatest  living  orator,  after  wasting  his  health  and 
perilling  his  life  in  the  people's  cause,"  should  have  been 
defeated. 


''^! 


•230 


JOHN   lUtiailT. 


VM\     II'- 


Almost  immediately  on  j\Ir.  ^right's  return  from  Italy 
—  he  had  been  absent  from  England  nearly  a  year  —  he 
was  elected  to  Parliament  from  Birmingham  August  10, 
ISaT.  When  he  made  his  tirst  speech,  after  his  return, 
on  October  27,  1858,  the  great  Town  Hall  "iould  not 
accommodate  the  thousands  who  crowded  to  gain  admit- 
tance. It  was  always  interesting  in  later  years  to  watch 
John  Bright  as  he  came  into  the  great  Birminghai.i 
depot,  either  going  to  or  from  his  home  at  llochdale. 
The  white-haired  man  seemed  unconscious  that  great 
crowds  were  surging  around  him,  and  saying  with  hushed 
reverence,  "  That's  J^right !  that's  l^-ight !  " 

Mr.  Bright  was  sometimes  accused  of  trying  to  "Ameri- 
canize British  institutions,"  because  he  favored  an  ex- 
tension of  the  suffrage,  and,  "as  a  guaranty  to  the 
independence  of  the  voter,  the  protection  of  the  ballot." 
He  said,  —  and  it  would  be  well  for  Americans  to  re- 
member and  cherish  the  words,  —  "I  believe  that  free- 
dom can  only  be  extended  and  retained  by  a  fair  and 
honest  representation  of  the  people." 

He  said,  with  impassioned  eloquence,  when  pleading 
for  the  vote :  "  Who  have  been  your  rulers  for  genera- 
tions back  ?  Who  have  squandered  your  money  ? 
Who  have  shed  your  blood  ?  For  whom  have  the  })eo- 
ple  of  England  toiled,  and  sweated,  and  bled  for  gen- 
erations back,  and  with  what  result  ?  Why,  to  be 
insulted  now  in  the  year  1859,  and  told  with  lordly 
arrogance,  that  it  is  not  fitting  that  they  should  be 
admitted  to  the  exercise  of  the  franchise.  .  .  . 

"  Shall  seventy-five  millions  of  pounds  sterling  in 
taxes  —  seventy -five  millions,  the  produce  of  human 
labor  —  shall  this  be  annually  raised  and  spent,  and 
shall  six  millions  of   Englishmen,  who   have   had   the 


JOUN  BRIGUT. 


2:n 


luaiu  power  in  raising  it,  have  no  further  conoeni  iu 
the  matter?  Sliall  every  workinginan  give,  as  I  believe 
he  does  give,  at  least  two  hours  extra  per  (hiy  of  toil  and 
of  sweat  to  support  a  government  whose  policy  he  oan 
in  no  degree  influence,  and  which  shuts  him  out  from 
the  commonest  rights  of  citizenship,  ;uul  si)urns  him  as 
though  he  were  but  a  wild  beast  in  hunum  form '.'... 

"  It  will  come.  It  may  be  delayed,  but  it  cannot  be 
prevented.  It  will  come  by  honest,  enlightened,  and 
safe  steps,  such  as  we  recommend,  or  it  will  come,  lias- 
tened  by  some  great  accident  which  none  of  us  now 
foresee,  and  may  bring  about  changes  and  feelings  which 
may  shake  our  political  and  social  fabric  to  its  base.  .  .  . 
It  is  because  I  wish  England  to  be  great,  and  glorious, 
and  free,  and  moral,  that  I  urge  the  working-classes 
amongst  my  countrymen,  the  unfranchised  millions,  to 
insist  upon  their  just  rights." 

Bright  lived  to  see  the  reforms  accomplished  for 
which  he  had  labored,  but  not  till  Hyde  Park  riots  and 
great  gatherings  of  men  had  shown  the  legislators  that 
the  people  were  in  earnest. 

The  first  great  reform  in  the  franchise,  after  1832,  was 
won  in  18G7,  under  Gladstone.  The  first  of  a  series  of 
"  Keform  Demonstrations"  was  held  at  Birmingliam, 
August  27,  1866.  Six  platforms  were  erected  in  Brookes 
Field,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men  were 
present  to  hear  the  addresses  of  Bright  and  others.  At 
Manchester,  September  24,  eighty  thousand  men  gathered 
to  demand  the  extension  of  suffrage.  When  Bright  ap- 
peared before  them,  the  entire  mass  waved  their  hats 
and  handkerchiefs,  and  sang  ''  Auld  Lang  Syne."  He 
spoke  in  Glasgow,  October  16,  one  hundred  and  thirty 
thousand  people  being  on  the  grounds.     After  an  im- 


\m 


m 


i 


ml 


-iLiXiLiU-U.- 


lif 


ill 


i.'V 


232 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


mense   meeting  in   Dublin,   Bright   spoke    in    London 
December    3.      Over    one    hundred    thousand    persons 
walked  in  the  procession.     In  soma  cities  the  proces- 
sions demanding  reform  were  four  miles   long.     Thus 
earnest  is  the  English  nation  when  once  it  is  aroused. 
Bright,  the  great  "master  of  monosyllables,"  swayed 
them  by  his  simple  eloquence.     "  He  was,  and  delighted 
to  be,"  said  Gladstone,  after  his  death,  "one  of  the  chief 
guardians  among  us  of  the  purity  of  the  English  tongue. 
He  knew  how  the  character  of   a  nation  is  associated 
with  its  language,  and  he  was  enabled  as  an  Englishman 
profoundly  attached  to  his  country — the  tongue  of  the 
people  being  to  him  almost  an  object  of  worship  —  to 
preserve  the  purity  of  the  language  of  Shakespeare  and 
I^Iilton."     \\'hile  he  swayed  by  his  fervid,  Anglo-Saxon 
speech,  he  kept  the  people  calm  by  a  tremendous  power 
in  himself.     "  Many  of  you  have  stood,"  he  said  in  that 
marvellously  clear,    resonant  voice,   "  as   I   have   often 
stood,  c^i  the  sea-shore,  in  an  hour  of  quiet  and  of  calm. 
No  tempest  drives  the  waves  :  the  wind  is  but  a  whisper : 
and  yet  the  tide  comes  on  as  by  some  latent  and  mys- 
terious power.     The  loiterers  on  the  beach  are  driven 
from  point  to  point  as  the  waves  advance,  and  at  length 
tlie  whole  vast  basin  of  the  ocean  seems  tilled  to  the 
>)rim. 

'•  So  on  this  question :  there  is  no  violence  nor  even 
menace  of  force  ;  but  opinion  grows,  its  tide  moves  on ; 
opposition,  ignorant  on  the  one  hand,  insolent  on  the 
other,  falls  back,  and  shortly  we  shall  see  barriers  thrown 
down,  privilege  and  monopoly  swept  away,  a  people 
enfranchised,  and  the  measure  of  their  freedom  full. 
You  have  lionored  me  by  coiinuitting  this  great  cause  in 
part  to  my  keeping.     I  may  defend  it  feebly.     I  may 


■>\^ 


JOUN  BJilGBT. 


283 


fall  from  the  ranks  before  it  is  won ;  but  of  one  thing 
you  may  be  sure,  I  shall  never  betray  it," 

"  Bright's  style  of  speaking,"  says  McCarthy,  "was 
pure  to  austerity  ;  it  was  stripped  of  all  superfluous 
ornament.  It  never  gushed  or  foamed.  The  first  pecu- 
liarity that  struck  the  listener  was  its  superb  self- 
restraint.  .  .  .  The  fire  of  his  eloquence  was  a  white 
heat,  intense,  consuming,  but  never  sparkling  or  sput- 
tering." .  .  . 

If  America  had  had  no  Civil  War,  Mr.  Bright  would 
have  been  remembered  by  us  as  a  great  orator,  who  was 
in  favor  of  peace,  liberty,  education,  and  national  honor, 
but  now  he  is  revered  by  every  American  as  the  man 
who,  above  all  others,  was  our  outs})oken,  earnest, 
beloved  friend,  in  the  days  of  our  supreme  trial  and 
sorrow. 

When  the  Southern  ports  were  blockaded,  and  the 
manufacturing  towns  in  EngLind  were  deprived  of  cotton, 
great  suffering  resulted  among  the  tens  of  thousands 
thrown  out  of  work  in  the  cotton  mills.  The  Messrs. 
Bright,  themselves  of  course  crippled  in  business,  not 
only  aided  their  workmen  to  live,  but  opened  schools  for 
adults,  so  that  their  time  might  be  well  used. 

John  Bright's  first  public  speech  in  behalf  of  the 
Union  was  at  Kochdale,  August  1,  18G1,  soon  after  the 
war  began.  "  No  man  is  more  in  favor  of  peace  than  I 
am,"  he  said  ;  "  no  man  has  denounced  war  more  than 
I  have,  probably,  in  this  country  ;  few  men,  in  their 
public  life,  have  suffered  more  obloquy  —  I  had  almost 
said,  more  indignity  —  in  cor.sequence  of  it.  But  I  can- 
not for  the  life  of  me  see,  upon  any  of  these  principles 
upon  which  states  are  governed  now,  —  I  say  nothing  of 
the  literid  word  of  the  New  Testament  —  I  cannot  see 


il.i 


234 


JOHN  BlilGHT. 


m 


how  the  state  of  affairs  in  America,  with  regard  to  the 
United  States  Government,  could  have  been  different 
from  what  it  is  at  this  moment.  ... 

"If  the  thirty-three  or  thirty-four  States  of  the 
American  Union  can  break  off  whenever  they  like,  I 
can  see  nothing  but  disaster  and  confr.oiwi.  throughout 
the  whole  of  that  continent.  I  say  that  the  war,  be  it 
successful  or  not,  be  it  Christian  or  not,  be  it  wise  or 
not,  is  a  war  to  sustain  the  government,  and  to  sustain 
the  authority  of  a  great  nation ;  and  that  the  people  of 
England,  if  they  are  true  to  their  own  sympathies,  to 
their  own  history,  .  .  .  will  have  n(  sympathy  with 
those  who  wish  to  build  up  a  great  empire  on  the  per- 
petual bondage  of  millions  of  their  fellow-men." 

He  said,  six  months  later,  on  the  seizure  of  Mason 
and  Slidell  on  board  the  Trent,  after  speaking  of  the 
greatness  of  America,  and  counselling  calmness  in 
judgment  and  procedure,  "If  the  American  government 
believe,  on  the  opinion  of  their  law  officers,  that  the  act 
is  illegal,  I  have  no  doubt  they  'vill  make  fitting  repara- 
tion ;  for  there  is  no  government  in  the  world  that 
lias  so  strenuously  insisted  upon  modifications  of  inter- 
national law,  and  been  so  anxious  to  be  guided  alwayp 
by  the  most  moderate  and  merciful  interpretation  of 
that  law.  .  .  . 

"  I  will  undertake  to  say,  that  when  you  hear  from 
the  United  States  Government  —  if  they  think  the  act 
leg.il  —  a  statement  of  their  view  of  the  case,  they  will 
show  you  that,  fifty  or  sixty  years  ago,  during  the  wars 
of  that  time,  there  were  scores  of  cases  that  were  at 
least  as  bad  as  this,  and  some  infinitely  worse.  ...  I 
could  easily  place  before  you  ciu'.es  of  wonderful  outrage 
committed  by  us  wlien   we  were  at  war,  and  for  many 


4 


Ill 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


235 


)er- 


fi 


n 


of  which,  I  am  afraid,  little  or  no  reparation  was 
offered." 

And  then  he  begs  of  the  people  not  to  let  the  news- 
papers or  public  speeches  lead  them  into  a  war  frame  of 
mind.  Would  that  we  had  many  a  John  l>right,  with 
conciliatory  spirit  and  Christian  brotherliness,  to  keep 
peace  and  good-will  among  nations  ! 

"What  can  be  now  more  monstrous  than  that  we,  as 
we  call  ourselves  to  some  extent,  an  educated,  a  moral, 
and  II  Christian  nation,  —  at  a  moment  when  an  accident 
of  this  kind  occurs,  before  we  have  made  a  representa- 
tion to  the  American  government,  before  we  have  heard 
a  word  from  them  in  reply,  —  should  be  all  up  in  arms, 
every  sword  leaping  from  its  scabbard,  and  every  man 
loolcing  about  for  his  pistols  and  his  blunderbusses  ?  .  .  . 

'-  It  has  been  said,  '  How  much  better  it  would  be  '  — 
not  for  the  United  States,  but  —  '  for  us,  that  these  States 
should  be  divided.  I  recollect  meeting  a  gentleman  on 
Bond  Street  one  day  before  the  session  was  over.  He 
was  a  very  rich  man,  and  one  whose  voice  is  very  much 
heard  in  the  House  of  Commons,  .  .  .  and  he  said  to  me, 
'After  all,  this  is  a  sad  business,  but  still  I.  think  it  is 
very  much  better  that  they  should  be  split  up.  In 
twenty  years,'  or  in  fifty  years,  I  forget  which  it  was, 
'they  will  be  so  powerful  that  they  will  bully  all 
Europe.'  .  .  . 

"  There  cannot  be  a  meaner  motive  than  this  I  am 
speaking  of.  ...  I  should  say  that,  if  a  man  iiad  a 
great  heart  within  him,  he  would  rather  look  forward  to 
the  day  when,  from  that  point  of  land  which  is  habitable 
nearest  to  the  Pole,  to  the  shores  of  the  great  Gulf,  the 
whole  of  that  vast  continent  might  become  one  great 
confederation  of   States,  —  without  a  great  army,  and 


1     Vi 


m^ 


ii! 


ihi 


I, 


236 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


without  a  great  navy,  —  not  mixing  itself  up  \vith  tlie 
entanglements  of  European  politics,  —  without  a  custom- 
house inside,  through  the  whole  length  and  breadth  of  its 
territory,  —  and  with  freedom  everywhere,  equality  every- 
where, law  everywhere,  peace  everywhere.  Such  a  con- 
federation would  afford  at  least  some  hope  that  man  is 
not  forsaken  of  Heaven,  and  that  the  future  of  our  race 
might  be  better  than  the  past.  .  .  . 

"  Now,  whether  the  Union  will  be  restored  or  not,  or 
the  South  achieve  an  unhonored  independence  or  not,  I 
know  not,  and  I  predict  not.  But  this  I  think  I  know, 
—  that  in  a  few  years,  a  very  few  years,  the  twenty 
millions  of  "reemen  in  the  North  will  be  thirtv  millions, 
or  even  fifty  millions,  —  a  population  equal  to  or  exceed- 
ing that  of  this  kingdom. 

"  When  that  time  comes,  I  pray  that  it  may  not  be 
said  amongst  them,  that,  in  the  darkest  hour  of  their 
country's  trials,  England,  the  land  of  their  fathers, 
looked  on  with  icy  coldness  and  saw  unmoved  the  perils 
and  calamities  of  their  children. 

"  As  for  me,  I  have  but  this  to  say :  I  am  one  in  this 
audience,  and  but  one  in  the  citizenship  of  this  country  ; 
but  if  all  other  tongues  are  silent,  mine  shall  speak  for 
tliat  policy  which  gives  hope  to  the  bondsmen  of  the 
South,  and  which  tends  to  generous  tlioughts,  and  gener- 
ous words,  and  generous  deeds,  between  the  two  great 
nations  who  speak  the  English  language,  and  from  their 
origin  are  alike  entitled  to  the  English  name." 

Bright  hated  slavery,  and  did  not  forget  to  remind 
England,  that  she  was  in  part  responsible  for  the  blot 
on  the  American  nation.  He  reminded  lier  people  that 
Thomas  Jefferson,  two  y(\^rs  before  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  had  said  to  tlio  delegates  from  Congress 


L 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


237 


from  his  own  slave  State  of  Virginia :  "  The  abolition  of 
domestic  slavery  is  the  great  object  of  desire  in  those 
colonies  where  it  was  unhappily  introduced  in  their 
infant  state.  But  previous  to  the  enfranchisement  of 
the  slaves  we  have,  it  is  necessary  to  exclude  all  further 
importations  from  Africa. 

"  Yet  our  repeated  attempts  to  effect  this  by  prohibi- 
tion, and  by  imposing  duties  which  might  amount  tc 
prohibition,  have  hitherto  been  defeated  by  his  Majesty's 
negative, — thus  preferring  the  immediate  advantages 
of  a  few  "'^)ritish  corsairs  to  the  lasting  interests  of  the 
American  States,  and  to  the  rights  of  human  nature, 
deeply  wounded  by  this  infamous  practice." 

"I  blame  men,"  said  Mr.  Bright,  "who  are  eager  to 
admit  into  the  family  of  nations  a  State  which  offers 
itself  to  us,  based  upon  a  principle,  I  will  undertake  to 
say,  more  odious  and  more  blasphemous  than  was  ever 
licretofore  dreamed  of  in  Christian  or  Pagan,  in  civilized 
or  in  savage  times. 

"The  leader  of  this  revolt  proposes  this  monstrous 
thing  —  that  over  a  territory  forty  times  as  large  as 
England,  the  blight  and  curse  of  slavery  shall  be  forever 
])erpetuated.  I  cannot  believe,  for  my  part,  that  such  a 
fate  will  befall  that  fair  land,  stricken  though  it  now  is 
with  the  ravages  of  war.  I  cannot  believe  that  civiliza- 
tion,  in  its  journey  with  the  sun,  will  sink  into  endless 
night  in  order  to  gratify  the  ambition  of  the  leaders  of 
this  revolt,  who  seek  to  — 


,:i 


'  Wade  through  slaughter  to  a  throne, 
And  shut  the  gates  of  mercy  on  mankind.' 

"  They  are  not  only  slave  owners,  slave  buyers  and 
sellers,  but  that  which  out  of  Pandemonium  itself  never 


iii 


I 


■Mfa<BM« 


238 


JOHN  lUlIGIIT. 


before  was  conceived  of,  —  they  are  slave  breeders  for 
the  slave-market ;  and  these  men  []\ir.  Yancey  and  Mr. 
Mason,  who  had  been  sent  from  the  South  as  envoys] 
have  come  to  your  country,  and  are  to  be  met  with  at 
elegant  tables  in  London,  and  are  in  fast  friendship 
with  some  of  your  public  men,  and  are  constantly  found 
in  some  of  your  newspaper  offices ;  and  they  are  here  to 
ask  Englishmen  —  Englishmen  with  a  history  for  free- 
dom—  to  join  hands  with  their  atrocious  conspiracy." 

It  ought  never  to  be  forgotten  in  America,  that,  when 
five  hundred  thousand  working-people  in  the  North  of 
England  were  destitute  from  the  privation  of  cotton,  — 
many  of  them  so  near  starvation  that  soup-kitchens 
h'.id  to  be  opened  for  them,  and  food  provided  by 
ciiarity,  —  these  working-people  never  lost  their  sym- 
pathy with  the  North. 

The  trades-unions  sent  an  address  to  Abraham  Lincoln, 
.saying:  "We  desire  to  assure  you,  and  the  people  of 
the  Northern  and  loyal  States  of  America,  that  our 
earnest  and  heartfelt  sympathies  are  with  you  in  the 
arduous  struggle  you  are  maintaining  in  the  cause  of 
human  freedom.  We  indignantly  protest  against  the 
assertion  that  the  people  of  England  vish  for  the  suc- 
cess of  the  Southern  States  in  their  diabolical  attempt 
to  establish  a  separate  government  on  the  basis  of 
human  slavery.  .  .  .  We  would  rather  perish  than 
band  ourselves  in  unholy  alliance  with  the  South  and 
slavery." 

When  the  merchants  of  New  York  and  others  sent 
their  gifts  to  the  suffering  workmen  of  Lancashire,  in 
the  ship  George  Griswold,  and  generous  contributions 
to  the  relief  fund,  Mr.  Bright  made  an  eloquent  speech 
at  the  public  meeting  held  February  3,  1863,  to  return 
grateful  thanks. 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


239 


i 


"I  regret,"  he  said,  "more  than  I  hav'e  words  to 
express,  this  painful  fact,  that,  of  all  the  countries  in 
Europe,  this  country  is  the  only  one  which  ha.,  men 
in  it  who  are  willing  to  take  active  steps  in  favor  of 
this  intended  slave-government.  We  supply  the  ships ; 
we  supply  tlie  arms,  the  munitions  of  war ;  we  give  aid 
and  comfort  to  this  foulest  of  all  crimes.  Englishmen 
only  do  it.  .  .  .  But  the  working-men  of  England,  and 
I  will  say  it  too  for  the  great  body  of  the  middle  classes 
of  England,  they  have  not  been  wrong  upon  this  great 
question." 

A  few  days  later.  Bright  said  in  a  public  address : 
"At  this  moment,  such  of  you  as  read  the  cicy  articles 
of  the  daily  papers  will  see  that  a  loan  has  been  con- 
tracted for  in  the  city,  to  the  amount  of  three  millions 
sterling,  on  behalf  of  the  Southern  Confederacy.  .  .  . 
Now  the  one  great  object  of  that  loan  is  this,  tc  p"^  "n 
this  country  for  vessels  which  are  being  built,  —  Ala- 
bamas,  —  from  which  it  is  hoped  that  so  much  iriitation 
will  arise  in  the  minds  of  the  people  of  the  iSTorthern 
States,  that  England  may  be  dragged  into  war,  to  take 
sides  with  the  South  and  with  slavery.  .  .  . 

"Tliere  may  be  men  outside,  there  are  men  sitting 
amongst  your  legislators,  who  will  build  and  equip  cor- 
sair ships,  to  prey  upon  the  commerce  of  a  friendly 
power,  —  who  will  disregard  the  laws  and  honor  of  their 
country,  who  will  trample  on  the  proclamation  of  their 
sovereign,  and  who,  for  the  sake  of  the  glittering  profit 
which  sometimes  waits  on  crime,  are  content  to  cover 
themselves  with  everlasting  infamy.  .  .  . 

"  I  speak  not  to  those  men.  ...  I  speak  to  you  work- 
ing-men. ...  Do  not,  then,  give  the  hand  of  fellowship 
to  the  worst  foes  of   freedom  that  the  world  has  ever 


1 ': 


M 


1 


240 


JOUN  BRIGHT. 


ill 


'^:!NI 


seen;  and  do  not.  I  beseech  you,  bring  down  a  curse 
upon  your  cause,  which  no  after-penitence  can  ever  lift 
from  it.  ...  I  ha/e  Taith  in  you.  ... 

"  Impartial  nistory  will  tell  that,  when  your  states- 
men were  hostile  or  coldly  neutral,  when  many  of  your 
rich  men  were  corrupt,  when  your  press  —  which  ought 
to  have  instructed  a.id  defenued-— was  mainly  written 
to  betray,  the  fate  of  a  continent  and  of  its  vast  popu- 
lation being  in  peril,  you  clung  to  freedom  with  an 
unfaltering  trust  that  God  in  His  infinite  mercy  will  yet 
make  it  the  heritage  of  all  His  children.  .  .  . 

"  In  that  land  there  are  no  six  millions  of  grown 
men  —  I  speak  of  the  Free  States  —  excluded  from  the 
Constitution  of  their  country  and  its  electoral  fran- 
chise ;  there  you  will  rind  a  free  church,  a  free  school, 
free  lands,  a  free  vote,  and  a  free  career  for  the  child  of 
the  humbltst-born  in  the  land.  jMy  countrymen,  who 
work  for  your  living,  remember  this :  there  will  be  one 
wild  shriek  of  freedom  to  startle  all  mankind,  if  that 
American  Republic  should  be  overthrown." 

When  jMr.  Roebuck,  on  June  30.  1863,  introduced  a 
motion  into  the  House  of  Commons,  in  recognition  of 
the  Southern  Confederacy,  Bright's  witty,  sarcastic,  and 
eloquent  speech,  which  may  be  found  in  full  in  liis 
"Speeches  on  the  American  Question,"  collected  In- 
Frank  Mooro,  doubtless  helped  to  make  the  member 
witiidraw  his  motion.  ]\Ir.  Bright  said:  "When  I  can 
get  down  to  my  home  from  this  House,  I  find  half  a 
dozen  little  children  playing  upon  my  hearth.  How 
many  members  are  there  who  can  s^ay  with  me,  that  the 
most  innocent,  tlie  most  pure,  the  most  holy  joy  which 
in  their  past  years  they  have  felt,  or  in  their  future 
yf;ars  they  hope  for,  has  not  arisen  from  contact  and 
association  with  our  precious  children  ? 


'« 


i 


^^.^ 


JOHN  li  RIG  FIT. 


241 


cfid  a 
on  of 
,  and 
his 
\)y 
mber 
can 
alf  a, 
How 
at  the 
which, 
future 
t  and 


"  Well,  then,  if  that  be  so ;  if,  when  the  hand  of  death 
takes  one  of  these  flowers  from  our  dwelling,  our  heart 
is  overwhelmed  with  sorrow  and  our  household  is  cov- 
ered with  gloom, — what  would  it  be  if  our  children 
were  brought  up  to  this  infernal  system?  one  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  of  them  every  year  brought  into  the 
world  in  these  Slave  States,  amongst  these  *  gentlemen,' 
amongst  this  'cMvalry,'  amongst  these  men  that  we  can 
make  our  friends  V  Do  you  forget  the  thousand-fold 
griefs  and  the  countless  agonies  which  belonged  to  the 
silent  conflict  of  slavery  before  the  war  began  ?  .  .  . 

"  The  brother  of  my  honorable  friend,  the  member 
for  South  Durham,  told  me  that  in  North  Carolina,  he 
himself  saw  a  woman  whose  every  child,  ten  in  number, 
had  been  sold  when  they  grew  up  to  the  age  at  which 
they  would  fetch  a  price  to  their  master.  .  .  . 

"  I  know  what  I  hope  for,  and  what  I  shall  rejoice  in, 
but  I  know  nothing  of  future  facts  that  will  enable  me 
to  express  a  confident  opinion.  Whether  it  will  give 
freedom  to  the  race  which  white  men  have  trampled  in 
the  dust,  and  whether  the  issue  will  purify  a  nation 
steeped  in  crimes  committed  against  that  race,  is  known 
only  to  the  Supreme.  In  His  hands  are  alike  the  breath 
of  man  and  the  life  of  States.  I  am  willing  to  commit 
to  Him  the  issue  of  this  dreadful  contest ;  but  I  implore 
of  Him,  and  I  beseech  tins  House,  that  my  country  may 
lift  not  hand  or  voice  in  aid  of  the  most  stupendous 
act  of  guilt  that  history  has  recorded  in  the  annals  of 
mankind." 

Later,  he  said,  "  When  this  mortal  strife  is  over,  when 
peace  is  restored,  when  slavery  is  destroyed,  when  the 
Union  is  cemented  a  resh,  .  .  .  then  Europe  and  Eng- 
land may  learn   that   an   instructed  democracy  is  the 


II;'! 


ilf 


i 


I    ;'l 


>i       i: 


1^ 

1' 


9.10 


JO//.V   li RIGHT. 


w:u 


surest  foundation  of  government,  and  that  education 
and  freedom  are  the  only  sources  of  true  greatness  and 
true  happiness  among  any  people." 

When  the  dreadful  war  was  over,  Mr.  Bright  rejoiced, 
as  did  our  whole  nation,  that  the  curse  of  slavery  — 
four  millions  of  human  beings  in  bondage  —  had  been 
washed  away  forever,  even  though  by  the  blood  of  the 
noblest  and  the  bravest  of  both  North  and  South. 

]\Ir.  Bright  was  soon  to  learn,  from  sad  })ersonal  expe- 
rience, the  sorrow  "  when  the  hand  of  death  takes  one 
of  these  tlowers  from  our  dwelling."  In  the  autumn  of 
1864  he  and  inS  family  went  to  Llandudno  for  rest. 
One  day  as  they  were  strolling  through  the  pretty 
churchyard  of  St.  Tudno,  within  hearing  of  the  wa^-'es 
of  the  sea,  their  handsome  boy  of  six,  Leonard,  said, 
admiring  the  beautiful  scene,  "  Oh,  mamma,  I  should 
wish  when  I  am  dead  to  be  buried  here."  To  their 
amazement  and  heart-breaking  sorrow,  the  boy  soon 
died,  and  was  buried,  according  to  his  wish,  in  St. 
Tudno's  Churchyard. 

"  The  funeral  was  simple  in  the  extreme ;  and  as  it 
slowly  and  mournfully  ascended  the  mountain  path,  the 
only  sound  which  broke  the  stillness  was  the  fitful  ca- 
dence of  the  restless  billows,  and  the  bleating  of  a  soli- 
tary lamb  which  had  wandered  from  the  rest  of  the 
flock." 

A  white  marble  headstone  bears  the  simple  record  : 
"In  loving  remembrance  of  Leonard  Ih'iiiht,  who  died 
at  Llandudno,  November  8,  18G4.  Aged  nearly  six 
years.  'And  there  shall  be  one  fold  and  one  Shep- 
herd.' " 

Before  leaving  Kochdale,  the  child  gave  a  little  home- 
made whip  to  the  gardener,  to  be  kept  till  he  returned. 


i 


I  aiii 


JOHN   lUUGHT. 


243 


cation 

IS  and 

joiced, 
■ery  — 
I  been 
of  the 

I  expe- 
:es  one 
imn  of 
r  rest. 

pretty 

wav^es 
1,  said, 

should 
0  their 
y    soon 

in   St. 

.d  as  it 
th,  the 
ful  ca- 
a  soli- 
of  the 

record  : 
0  died 
six 


L-1 


Shep- 

iiome- 
iturned. 


i 


,: 


The  whip  was  hung  up  in  the  greenhouse,  and  is  now 
tenderly  cherished,  for  the  fairhaired  boy  never  caiue 
back  for  it. 

The  next  year,  1865,  Bright  sustained  a  great  loss,  and 
England  as  well,  in  the  death  of  Cobden.  When  tlie 
famous  orator  attempted  to  speak  on  the  death  of  his 
friend,  in  the  House  of  Commons,  his  voice  failed 
him  twice  from  emotion.  At  last,  he  could  speak  but  a 
few  words  concerning  "the  manliest  and  gentlest  spirit," 
as  he  said,  "that  has  ever  quitted  or  tenanted  a  human 
form.  .  .  .  After  twenty  years  of  intimate  and  almost 
brotherly  friendship  with  him,  I  little  knew  how  much 
I  loved  him  until  I  found  that  I  had  lost  him." 

Speaking  afterwards  of  Cobden's  funeral,  Bright  said  : 
"  Standing  by  me,  and  leaning  on  the  coffin,  was  his 
sorrowing  daughter,  one  whose  attachment  to  her  father 
seems  to  have  been  a  passion  scarcely  equalled  among 
daughters.  She  said,  '  My  father  used  to  like  me  very 
much  to  read  t(":  him  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.'  His 
own  life  was  to  a  large  extent  —  I  speak  it  v/ith  rever- 
ence and  with  hesitation  —  a  sermon  based  upon  that 
best,  that  greatest  of  all  sermons.  His  life  was  a  life  of 
perpetual  self-sacrifice." 

Cobden's  life  was  not  an  easy  one.  What  life  is  ever 
easy  that  is  devoted  to  highest  good  ?  It  was  not 
strange,  perhaps,  that  Mrs.  Cobden  should  say  to  her 
husband  in  the  last  year  of  his  life,  as  they  rode  up  to 
London  from  their  home  in  the  country,  "  I  sometimes 
think  that  after  all  the  good  work  that  you  have  done, 
and  in  spite  of  fame  and  great  position,  it  would  have 
been  better  for  us  both  if,  after  you  and  I  married,  we 
had  gone  to  settle  in  the  backwoods  of  Canada." 

He  had,  says  Morley,  "  the  commander's  gift  of  en- 


h 


n 


244 


JOHN  URIGIIT. 


couraging  and  stimulating  others.  He  had  enthusiasm, 
patience,  and  good  humor,  which  is  tlie  most  valuable  of 
all  qualities  in  a  campaign.  There  was  as  little  bitter- 
ness in  his  nature  as  in  any  human  being  that  ever 
lived." 

On  November  3,  1868,  INIr.  Bright  was  presented  with 
the  freedom  of  the  city  of  Edinburgh,  and  ten  days 
later  made  an  honorary  member  of  its  Chamber  of  Com- 
merce. In  the  following  month,  December,  Gladstone, 
having  become  Prime  ^linister,  offered  Bright  a  position 
in  the  Cabinet,  with  the  hearty  concurrence  of  the 
Queen.  IMr.  Bright  at  first  declined,  but  finally  accepted 
the  presidency  of  the  Board  of  Trade ;  though  he  told 
Gladstone  on  the  following  day  that  "  he  had  not  slept 
a  wink  after  it." 

When  he  went  to  Windsor  to  take  the  oath  of  ofhce, 
the  Queen  requested  the  clerk  of  the  l*r?vy  Council  to 
assure  INIr.  Bright  that  he  was  at  liberty  to  omit  the 
ceremony  of  kneeling,  if  more  agreeable  to  his  feelings. 
He,  therefore,  took  the  oath  standing.  "  I  remember," 
says  Gladstone,  "being  struck  with  the  feeling  that 
there  was  more  loyalty,  I  will  even  say  more  reverence, 
expressed  in  Mr.  Bright's  face  than  would  have  served 
many  a  man  to  go  through  the  kneeling  and  the  kissing 
of  hands." 

In  the  disestablishment  of  the  Irish  Church,  Bright 
took  a  leading  part.  "  Out  of  a  population  of  six  million 
persons  in  Ireland,"  said  Mr.  Bright,  "  four  and  a  half 
millions  belong  to  the  Boman  Catholic  Church.  Half 
a  million  belong  to  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  and 
about  half  a  million  to  the  Presbyterian  Church.  .  .  . 
Now,  if  we  belonged  to  these  four  and  a  half  millions, 
and  knew  that  this  little  church  of  half  a  million  was 


ber," 

tliat 

•ciice, 

lerved 

issing 

'.right 
lilliou 
half 
Half 
;h,  and 
I.  .  .  . 
llions, 


joiix  nil  I  a  I  IT. 


245 


plaiifod  anionf:^  ns  by  those  wlio  liad  oonqiiered  our 
fatliors,  if  wo  kiunv  also  that  this  little  church  was 
associated  with  everything  that  had  been  hostile  to  our 
national  interests  and  prosperity,  and  if  we  knew  further 
tliat  it  absorbed  incomes  amounting  to  not  less  than 
.-yroO.OOO  or  £800,000  sterling  per  year,  these  incomes 
being  derived  from  national  property  amounting  to  prob- 
ably  .4;;i;j,000,000  or  dt;i4,000,000  sterling,—!  say  that, 
if  we  were  of  those  four  and  a  half  millions,  let  me  ask 
every  man  of  you  whether  we  should  not  feel  that  we 
liad  a  just  cause  of  complaint,  and  that  there  was  a 
national  grievance  in  our  country  that  required  to  be 
speedily  redressed  ?  .  .  . 

"  We  propose  to  put  the  Protestant  Episcopalians  of 
Ireland  in  exactly  the  same  position  ...  in  which  all 
the  Protestant  churches,  the  Episcopalians  included,  are 
in  Canada,  in  the  Australian  colonies,  and  in  the  United 
States." 

When  the  House  of  Lords  delayed  the  passage  of  the 
Bill,  IJright's  outspoken  words  on  the  matter  created 
a  great  sensation.  "  Instead  of  doing  a  little  childish 
tinkering  about  life  peerages,"  he  said,  "  it  would  be 
well  if  the  peers  could  bring  themselves  on  a  line  with 
the  opinions  and  necessities  of  our  day.  In  harmony 
witli  the  nation,  they  may  go  on  for  a  long  time  ;  but 
throwing  themselves  athwart  its  course,  they  may  meet 
with  accidents  not  pleasant  for  them  to  think  of.  lUit 
there  are  not  a  few  good  and  wise  men  among  the  peers, 
and  we  hope  their  counsels  may  prevail." 

Bright  believed  that  "the  time  is  coming  when  a  State 
Church  will  be  unknown  in  England."  He  desired  a 
Church  separated  from  the  State  ;  "  a  Church  depending 
upon  her  own  resources,  upon  the  zeal  of  her  people, 


if 


'li 

1 

' 

I 

iW 


246 


JOHN  inuaiiT. 


upon  the  truthfulness  of  her  principles,  and  upon  the 
blessings  of  her  Spiritual  Head." 

In  1870  Mr.  Bright  was  obliged  to  resign  his  position 
in  the  Cabinet  on  account  of  ill-health.  Her  INIajesty 
invited  him  to  rest  at  her  summer  home  in  Balmoral, 
but  he  was  obliged  to  decline  the  offer. 

In  August,  1873,  after  nearly  three  years,  Mr.  Bright, 
having  recovered  from  his  ill-liealth,  accepted  the  position 
in  the  Cabinet  of  Chancellor  of  the  Duchy  of  Lancaster. 
His  friends,  meantime,  in  the  Staffordshire  potteries 
had  presented  him  with  a  valuable  cabinet  tilled  with 
the  finest  ware  of  Wedgwood,  Minton,  and  Copeland. 
Several  of  the  vases  and  other  works  of  art  had  b.<^en 
made  especially  for  this  testimonial. 

In  the  spring  of  1878  a  great  sorrow  fell  upon  the 
Bright  home.  Mrs.  Bright  had  been  visiting  the  schools 
connected  with  the  mills,  had  spoken  to  the  scholars, 
and  had  asked  them  to  sing  for  her  one  of  her  favorite 
hymns,  "  Let  us  gather  up  the  sunbeams."  On  Sunday, 
May  12,  she  attended  service  in  the  Friends'  Aleeting 
House.  The  next  morning,  as  her  eldest  daughter,  Mrs. 
Clark,  and  her  children,  who  had  been  visiting  at  "One 
Ash,"  were  taking  their  departure,  Mrs.  Bright  bade  them 
an  affectionate  good-by,  fell  to  tlie  floor  in  a  fit  of  apo- 
plexy, and  died  in  a  few  minutes. 

A  telegram  was  a+"  once  sent  to  jNIr.  Bright,  who  re- 
turned to  his  desolaue  home  in  the  evening.  He  was 
greatl}^  overcome ;  at  the  unostentatious  funeral,  he 
leaned  heavily  on  the  shoulders  of  his  youngest  son, 
Philip,  for  support.  After  they  had  gone  into  the 
chapel  for  devotion,  he  noticed  that  an  aged  woman, 
humbly  dressed,  who  had  a  seat  o])posite  his,  had  no 
footstool.     With  the  thouglit  for  others,  which  was  a 


r 


JOUN  BRIGHT. 


247 


the 


J 


part  of  his  daily  life,  he  stepped  across  and  placed  at 
her  feet  his  own  stool,  which  had  been  provided  for  his 
special  accommodation. 

Letters  of  comfort  came  from  Queen  and  workman 
alike,  from  great  associations  and  humble  family  circles. 
Mr.  Bright  said,  "  I  can  say  very  little  of  what  I  have 
felt,  and  now  feel,  of  the  sympathy  which  has  been 
expressed  towards  my  family  and  myself.  So  far  as 
sympathy  can  in  any  degree  lessen  the  burden  of  afflic- 
tion, we  have  had  that  solace  to  its  widest  extent." 

He  was  not  above  sentiment.  When  some  of  Queen 
Victoria's  subjects  lamented  that  she  sorrowed  so  long 
for  her  dead  husband,  and  did  not  live  more  among  her 
people,  he  said,  "  I  venture  to  say  that  a  woman,  be 
she  the  queen  of  a  great  realm,  or  the  wife  of  one  of 
your  laboring  men,  who  can  keep  alive  in  her  heart  a 
great  sorrow  for  the  lost  object  of  her  life  and  affection, 
is  not  at  all  likely  to  be  wanting  in  a  great  and  generous 
sympathy  with  you." 

The  next  year,  1879,  Mr.  Bright  spoke  at  a  great  Lib- 
eral meeting  in  the  Pomona  Gardens,  Manchester,  where 
over  one  hundred  thousand  persons  were  present.  He 
opposed  vigorously  the  Zulu  and  Afghan  wars  under 
Beaconsfield.  He  worked  earnestly  for  Gladstone's  Irish 
Land  IMll.  Pie  did  not  favor  Home  Rule,  believing  that 
it  would  tend  to  a  separation  of  Ireland  from  England. 
As  he  voted  for  the  Coercion  r)ill  in  1881,  in  consequence 
of  the  great  increase  of  crimes  in  Ireland,  he  was  blamed 
by  many  as  they  recalled  his  words,  "Force  is  not  a 
remedy."  But  he  had  added  in  that  speech,  "  There  are 
times  wnen  it  may  be  necessary,  and  when  its  emplo}^- 
ment  may  be  absolutely  unavoidable,"  and  he  believed 
that  time  had  come ;  though  he  said,  "  I  should  rather 


m 


I 


•i 


Pli 


U) 


I 


m 

I 


K 


.    ' ; 


II 


.  r 
I 


'     t 


l§i 


u 


248 


JOZ/JV^  BRIGHT. 


regard  and  discuss  measures  of  relief  as  measures  of 
remedy,  than  measures  of  force,  whose  influence  is  only 
temporary,  and  in  the  long-run,  I  believe,  is  disastrous." 

Mr.  Bright  was  always  an  earnest  friend  to  India. 
Again  and  again,  before  our  Civil  War.  he  urged  that 
cotton  be  grown  more  extensively  in  India,  as  the 
slavery  question  must  one  day  be  settled,  and  cotton 
would  fail  then  to  come  to  their  mills  from  America. 
He  urged  "that  canals  for  navigation  or  irrigation  be 
made,  upon  some  grand  scheme  determined  by  eminent 
and  competent  engineers,"  that  the  produce  of  India  be 
thus  doubled,  and  the  terrible  famines  prevented.  In 
1837  over  800,000  people  died  of  famine  in  India;  in 
1860  as  many  more  probably  ;  in  1868-09,  1,250,000  per- 
ished  of  hunger ;  in  some  later  years,  nearly  as  many. 

"  If  famine  comes  from  want  of  water,"  said  lU'ight  in 
the  House,  "  clearly,  to  get  rid  of  famine,  you  must  have 
water.  You  cannot  have  water  except  by  works  of  irri- 
gation. You  have  the  rains  from  heaven ;  you  have 
great  rivers ;  and  you  have  a  great  government,  which 
has  conquered  the  country,  and  which,  having  conquered 
it,  at  least  ought  to  exercise  all  the  powers  of  its  intel- 
lect for  the  purpose  of  saving  its  people  from  this  suf- 
fering and  this  ruin;  pvd  ought  to  save  this  ParliamfMit 
and  this  country  from  the  degradation  and  humiliation 
of  allowing  it  to  be  known  throughout  the  world  that 
millions  of  the  subjects  of  the  Crown  in  India,  in  the 
course  of  ten  years,  perish  by  famine,  which  great  engi- 
neers and  men  of  character  and  experience  say  positively 
might  have  been  prevented." 

Mr.  George  W.  Smalley,  in  his  "London  Letters,"  gives 
the  following  incident :  "  There  was  a  dinner  during 
which  India  was  discussed.     A  very  eminent  man  of  sci- 


M 


1 J 

S  i 


iii{ 


II 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


249 


>j 


itcl- 

suf- 
nuMit 
ition 

that 
tho 
eiigi- 

vely 


enoe  expressed  some  strong  opinions  in  favor  of  holding 
India  by  the  sword,  without  much  regard  to  the  rights 
of  the  natives.  Mr.  Bright's  opinions  are  Avell  known. 
He  turned  on  the  eminent  man  of  science,  who  was  also 
a  man  of  high  spirit,  and  told  him  in  a  few  sentences 
what  he  thought ;  made  him  and  the  company  see  that 
his  opinions,  whatever  their  merits,  were  not  according 
to  knowledge.  It  was  done  with  energy,  unsparingly, 
but  with  unruffled  sweetness  of  tone  and  manner. 

"'I  never,'  said  this  eminent  man  of  science,  contem- 
platively, as  he  walked  up-stairs,  '  I  never  before  real- 
ized how  much  pleasure  a  man  may  have  in  being  told 
he  is  a  fool.'  Mr.  Bright,  of  course,  had  used  no  such 
word,  but  he  had,  perhaps,  conveyed  the  impression." 

November  16,  1881,  when  Mr.  Bright  was  seventy 
years  old,  his  birthday  was  celebrated  with  torchlight 
processions  and  bon'res,  and  many  addresses  were  pre- 
sented to  him.  As  he  drove  through  the  streets  he  was 
escorted  by  six  bands  of  music  and  a  torchlight  proces- 
sion of  fourteen  hundred  of  his  townsmen. 

He  had  always  been  deeply  interested  in  the  subject 
of  education.  It  was  therefore  fitting  that,  November 
IT),  1880,  he  should  be  elected  Lord  Rector  of  Glasgow 
University,  to  succeed  Mr.  Gladstone.  Mr.  lluskin  had 
been  nominated  in  opposition,  but  received  fewer  votes 
by  three  hundred.  Mr.  Bright  received  also  the  freedom 
of  che  city  of  Glasgow. 

To  the  University  students  he  said  in  an  eloquent 
address:  "Do  we  marcli,  or  do  we  not,  to  a  brighter 
time  ?  For  myself,  as  you  know,  it  will  not  be  possi- 
ble for  me  to  see  it;  but  even  whilst  the  sands  of  life 
are  running  it  may  be  one's  duty,  if  it  be  possible  in  the 
smallest  degree,  to  promote  it.  .  .  >  Ou  you  and  such  as 


lifl?! 


1«  :i 


250 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


i   '      I,!: 


m. 


ii 


you  depends  greatly  our  future.  What  I  want  to  ask 
you  is,  whether  you  will  look  back  upon  the  past,  and 
examine  it  carefully,  —  look  round  you  in  the  present, 
and  see  what  exists ;  and  endeavor,  if  it  be  possible,  to 
give  a  better  and  a  higher  tone  to  our  national  policy  for 
the  future.  .  .  . 

"  Shall  we  strive  to  build  up  the  honor  —  the  true 
honor  and  the  true  happiness  of  our  people  —  on  the 
firm  basis  of  justice,  morality,  and  peace  ?  I  plead  not 
for  the  great  and  for  the  rich.  I  plead  for  the  millions 
who  live  m  the  homes  of  only  one  room.  Can  ye  answer 
me  in  the  words  —  words  which  I  have  quoted  years  ago 
on  a  somewhat  like  occasion,  —  words  which  fell  from  the 
crowned  minstrel  who  left  us  the  Psalms:  'The  needy 
shall  not  always  be  forgotten  ;  the  expectation  of  the 
poor  phall  not  perish  forever '  ?  " 

Bright  spoke  at  the  opening  of  the  new  library  in 
Birmingham.  "  You  may  have  in  a  house  costly  pictures 
and  costly  ornaments,"  he  said,  "  and  a  great  variety  of 
decoration ;  yet,  so  far  as  my  judgment  goes,  I  would 
prefer  to  have  one  comfortable  room,  well  stocked  with 
books,  to  all  you  can  give  me  in  the  way  of  decoration 
which  the  highest  art  can  supply.  The  only  subject  of 
lamentation  is  —  one  feels  that  always,  I  think,  in  the 
presence  of  a  library — that  life  is  too  short,  and  I  am 
afraid  I  must  say  also  that  our  industry  is  so  far  defi- 
cient that  we  seem  to  have  no  hope  of  a  full  enjoyment 
of  the  ample  repast  that  is  spread  before  us." 

Speaking  of  American  writers,  he  said,  "  I  would  like 
to  ask  you  if  you  have  ever  read  what  I  consider  the 
greatest  of  the  poems  of  the  United  States  —  that  is, 
Longfellow's  '  Song  of  Hiawatha'?  ...  I  do  not  hesi- 
tate to  say,  as  far  as  my  reading  has  led  me  to  judge, 


JOHN  niilGHT. 


251 


iini 


that  that  is  a  poem  that  deserves  to  live,  and  will 
live.  .  .  . 

"  My  own  impression  is  that  there  is  no  blessing  that 
can  be  given  to  an  artisan's  family  more  than  a  love  of 
books.  The  home  influence  of  such  a  possession  is  one 
which  will  guard  them  from  many  temptations  and  from 
many  evils." 

Mr.  Bright  said  once  before  an  institute  :  "Whenever 
I  can  possibly  do  so,  I  spend  three  or  four  hours  of  an 
evening  reading  some  works  of  history  or  biography; 
and  I  never  go  to  bed  with  more  perfect  feeling  of 
enjoyment,  or  more  strengthened,  than  when  I  have  so 
spent  an  evening." 

Again  he  said  to  young  men :  "  There  are  in  this 
library  scores,  and  probably  hundreds,  of  admirable 
works  of  biography  which  you  may  read  with  the 
greatest  benefit ;  and  I  may  say  for  myself  that  there  is 
no  description  of  reading  from  which  I  rise,  as  I  can 
myself  discover,  more  improved,  than  when  I  rise  from 
the  study  of   the  biography  of   some   great  and  good 


jj 


man 

Mr.  Bright  was  also  especially  fond  of  poetry,  and 
studied  car^^fully  Dante,  Chaucer,  Milton,  Shakspeare, 
Byron,  Wordsworth,  Southey,  and  Shelley.  He  kept 
note-books  iii  which  he  copied  choice  or  appropriate 
selections. 

It  was  a  great  pleasure  to  see  and  talk  with  Mr. 
Bright  in  his  own  extensive  and  attractive  library. 
Beside  his  large  bookcases,  pictures  of  Lincoln,  Wash- 
ington, and  Sumner  adorned  the  walls.  Here  was  also 
a  bust  of  Gladstone. 

A  thing  much  prized  was  a  gold-headed  cane  w^hich 
once  belonged  to  President  Lincoln,  given  by  the  family 


.^lil 


'  '1 
i  I 


'''li 


ii 


It'-; 


It 


SI.  ' ' 


Ii '" 


f^' 


252 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


^o  the  Rev.  Dr..  Smith,  our  consul  at  Di  idee,  and  by  him 
presented  to  Mr.  Bright.  "  It  is  to  be  kept,"  said  Dr. 
Smith  in  his  will,  "  as  an  heirloom  in  the  family  of  the 
said  John  Bright,  as  a  token  of  the  esteem  which  the 
late  President  felt  for  him  because  of  his  unwearied 
zeal  and  defence  of  the  United  States  in  suppressing  the 
civil  rebellion  of  the  Southern  States."  This  was  given 
in  accordance  with  the  expressed  wish  of  the  President. 

Almost  the  first  question  Mr.  Bright  asked  me,  after 
his  cordial  grasp  of  the  hand,  was,  "  How  is  my  friend 
Whittier  ?  "  He  had  never  seen  our  revered  poet,  but  he 
loved  the  man  who  spent  all  his  early  life  in  protesting 
against  slavery,  and  could  repeat  many  of  even  his 
longer  poems  by  heart. 

The  handsome,  open  face  of  John  Bright  lighted  up 
as  he  talked  of  America,  a  land  he  desired  to  -nsit, 
though  he  had  been  told  he  should  "  be  obliged  to  shuke 
hands  withthirty  million  persons,"  —  a  statement  quire 
near  the  truth,  probably,  as  no  Englishman  could  have 
received  a  greater  ovation  from  our  people. 

He  talked  earnestly  about  war,  saying  that  none  had 
been  "jucv  and  necessary,"  save  our  own,  for  two  hun- 
dred years  ;  believed  that  free  trade  had  worked  wonders 
for  England,  and  hoped  we  should  in  time  adopt  similar 
measures ;  was  natural  and  unostentatious  in  manner,  as 
becomes  a  really  great  man ;  came  out  to  the  carriage 
door,  while  the  harsh  spring  winds  lifted  his  snowy  hair 
as  he  talked,  and  said  good-by  with  a  cordial  and  manly 
grace  that  will  make  "One  Ash"  always  rememberec. 
with  affection. 

In  1882  ]Mr.  Bright  resis:;ned  from  the  Cabinet,  because 
not  in  accord  with  his  colleagues  on  the  Egyptian  War. 
Said  Pasha  had  ruled   Egypt  nearly  thirty  years  i)re- 


JOHN  BRIGHT. 


253 


m 


viously,  in  an  enliglitoned  spirit.  Under  him  the  Suez 
Canal  was  begun,  and  railways  and  telegraphs  were 
extended  all  over  his  country.  A  large  public  debt  was 
incurred  consequ(Mitly.  At  his  death,  Ismail  Paslia 
succeeded  him,  and  obtained  from  the  Sultan  the  title 
of  Khedive,  the  annual  tribute  to  Turkey  being  raised 
from  nearly  four  hundred  thousand  pounds  to  nearly 
seven  hundred  thousand  pounds. 

Deeply  in  debt,  the  Khedive,  in  November,  1875,  sold 
all  his  shares  in  the  Suez  Canal  to  England,  for  four 
million  pounds.  His  own  private  loans  were  about 
eleven  million  pounds ;  while  the  floating  debt  was  about 
twenty -six  million  pounds.  Finally  the  Khedive,  hope- 
less as  to  payment,  repudiated  his  debts.  At  once  both 
England  and  France  demanded  that  they  should  have  a 
hand  in  the  control  of  Egypt's  finances,  and  arrange,  if 
possible,  for  the  payment  of  interest. 

As  such  an  arrangement  naturally  was  unpleasant  to 
the  Egyptians,  a  Nationalist  party  arose,  headed  by 
Arabi  F)ey,  with  the  army  behind  it,  which  was  opposed 
to  European  intervention.  Ismail  Pasha  had  already 
been  deposed  by  the  will  of  the  European  powers,  and 
Tewfik,  his  son,  was  on  the  throne. 

The  English  and  French  consuls  urged  that  Arabi 
and  his  allies  should  be  compelled  to  leave  the  country. 
This  Ai-abi  refused  lo  do,  and  Alexandria  was  rapidly 
fortified.  A  quarrel  soon  broke  out  between  natives  and 
Europeans.  The  English  demanded  that  work  on  the 
fortifications  should  cease,  and  as  this  demand  was  not 
complied  with,  the  English  fleet  commenced  action,  July 
10, 1882.  The  Cabinet  of  Great  Britain  then  despatched 
an  army  "to  secure  F)ritish  interests  and  restore  order." 
jNIr.  Bright  resigned  Ids  seat  July  15,  as  he  considered 


'!     i 


Itfi:;      I 


IK  ^ 

iili    I  :;i>  ^ 


254 


JOHN  n RIGHT. 


this  acti  '0  'a  uolruiiin  oi  both  internaiional  and  moral 
law."  ''I  ask  'd  T'  •  r-'  n  judgment,"  he  said,  "and  my 
conscience,  what  v.  as  th'  ivath  of  right  to  take.  They 
pointed  it  out  to  me  with  an  unerring  finger,  and  I  am 
humbly  endeavoring  to  follow  it." 

Mr.  Gladstone  said  to  the  House,  on  account  of  this 
separation;  "  It  is  to  us,  as  it  is  to  him,  an  occasion  of 
the  profoundest  p.iin.  But  he  carries  with  him  the 
unbroken  esteem,  and,  upon  every  other  question,  the 
unbroken  confidence,  of  his  colleagues,  and  their  best 
and  warmest  wishes  for  his  happiness ;  and  that  it  may 
follow  him  in  the  independent  position  to  which  he  has 
found  it  necessary  to  retire." 

The  forts  at  Alexandria  were  soon  destroyed ;  but 
before  the  British  entered  the  city,  much  of  it  was 
burned,  and  more  thn.n  two  thousand  Europeans  were 
murdered.  The  ivhedive  was  restored  to  power.  The 
English  troops,  under  Sir  Garnet  Wolseley,  with  eleven 
thousand  bayonets,  two  thousand  sabres,  and  sixty  guns, 
marched  against  Arabi,  at  Tel-el-Kebir,  September  13. 
The  British  charged  with  the  bayonet  and  carried  the 
first  line  of  defences  with  a  rush.  Tlie  Egyptians 
fought  desperately,  but  were  overcome.  Arabi  was 
made  a  prisoner,  and  banished  to  Ceylon,  giving  his 
parole  of  honor  to  the  British  that  he  would  not  make 
any  attempt  to  withdraw  from  his  place  of  exile. 

Mr.  Bright  said  of  this  war,  "  Perhaps  the  bond- 
holders, and  those  who  h  ve  made  money  by  it,  and 
those  who  have  got  promotion  and  titles  and  pensions, 
will  defend  it;  but  thoughtful  and  Christian  men  will 
condemn  it." 

In  the  early  part  of  the  next  year,  1883,  Mr.  Bright 
received,  through  Secretary  Evarts,  an  invitation  from 


i 


JOHN   lUlIGIIT. 


255 


ond- 
and 

ions, 
will 


i 


the  Union  League  Club  of  New  York  to  visit  the  United 
States,  and  be  the  guest  of  the  club.  lie  appreciattnl  the 
courtesy,  and  said,  "  I  can  never  forget  your  kindness 
and  the  honor  you  have  conferred  upon  ...e;"  but  he 
added,  "I  never  liked  the  sea,  and  my  onc*^  st  g  appe- 
tite for  travel  has  subsided,  and  I  cannts';  i-.tt  ieel  that 
the  friendly  welcome  promised  me  on  you  Jde  of  the 
Atlantic  would  force  me  into  a  publici'v  from  which  I 
shrink." 

Four  years  previously  he  had  received  an  urgent  invi- 
tation from  President  Hayes  to  visit  America. 

For  a  week,  beginning  June  11,  1883,  the  people  of 
Birmingham  celebrated  the  twenty-fifth  anniversary  of 
j\[r.  Bright's  representation  of  their  city  in  the  House 
of  Commons.  They  presented  him  with  a  gold  medal, 
struck  for  the  occasion,  bearing  the  words :  "  Peace, 
Ketrenchment,  and  Reform."  Thousands  came  from 
neighboring  cities  to  witness  the  procession,  one  mile 
and  a  half  long,  all  places  of  business  being  closed,  and 
houses  and  shops  decorated,  and  to  enjoy  the  concerts 
and  other  festivities,  each  evening.  In  P>ingley  Hall  he 
spoke  to  twenty  thousand  people.  Dr.  II.  W.  Dale,  on 
beluilf  of  the  Liberals  of  Birmingham,  presented  the 
great  statesman  with  a  portrait  of  himself,  by  ^Nlr.  Frank 
lloll,  and  a  silver  dessert  service,  costing  six  hundred 
guineas,  one  of  Elkington's  most  beautiful  works.  One 
hundred  and  fift}^  addresses  were  also  presented  by 
delegations  from  Manchester,  Liver})ool,  Sheffield,  Brad- 
ford, and  other  towns.  Each  nio-ht  of  the  week  he 
attended  a  great  banquet. 

Mr.  Bright  was  deeply  moved  by  this  expression  of 
admiration  and  gratitude  for  his  services.  One  of  his 
last  speeches  to  his  constituents  gave  a  glowing  outlook 


ji'  < 


■  i'i  ■    ! 


ill 


256 


JOHN  BJUGIIT. 


of  the  future,  in  accord  witli  the  optimism  of  liis  great 
heart.  His  closing  sentences  were  :  "  If  one  may  allow 
one's  imagination  a  little  i)lay,  I  should  say  that  we 
should  have  not  a  new  heaven,  but  wo  should  have  a 
new  earth.  It  would  not  be  geograjthically  greater  than 
it  1"='  at  present,  but  it  would  be  greater  in  wealth,  in 
comfort,  and  in  human  happiness.  Forgive  me  if  I 
dream,  it  may  be  so  ;  but  I  will  believe  in  a  better  time ; 
if  Christianity  be  not  a  fable,  as  I  believe  and  you 
belx. .  e  it  is  not,  then  that  better  time  must  come. 

*  Earth's  kindreds  shall  not  always  sleep, 
The  nations  shall  not  always  weep.' 

"For  me  the  final  chapter  is  now  writing.  It  may  be 
already  written  ;  l)ut  for  you,  this  great  constituency,  you 
have  a  perpetual  youth  and  a  perpetual  future.  I  pray 
Heaven  that  in  the  years  to  come,  when  ray  voice  is 
hushed,  you  ma}'  be  granted  strength  and  moderation, 
and  wisdom  to  influence  the  councils  of  your  country  by 
righteous  means,  for  none  other  than  righteous  and 
noble  ends." 

''  Bright's  speeches  were  never  frequent,"  says  Mr. 
Smalley,  "and  rarity  always  adds  to  the  value  of  a 
thing.  Neither  in  the  House  of  Commons  nor  on  the 
platform  was  he,  at  any  time  since  the  repeal  of  the 
Corn  Laws,  to  be  heard  very  often.  It  was  an  event 
when  he  spoke  in  the  House,  and  when  he  delivered  an 
address  at  Birmingham,  there  were  pilgrimages  from  far 
and  near.  He  disliked  parade,  ostentation,  fuss,  as  much 
as  any  man  could,  but  he  never  shrank  from  the 
affectionate  greetings  of  his  constituents. 

"The  infrequency  of  his  public  appearances  was  due, 
however,   to  other    causes    than   indolence   or   love   of 


JOHN   liliK.'llT. 


257 


M 
f- 


I: 


r, 


seolnsion.  He  understood  that  great  efforts  must  be 
made  at  long  intervals,  and  that  one  great  speech  is 
worth  a  score  which  just  fall  short  of  being  great." 

In  ^lay,  1S8.S,  ]\Ir.  IJright  was  prostrated  by  a  cold, 
and  frojii  that  time  till  J\[aroh,  1889,  he  was  a  sufferer 
most  of  the  time.  Loyalty  and  artisan  were  alike 
anxious  from  day  to  day  to  know  of  his  welfare.  On 
Wednesday  morning,  ]\Iarch  27,  his  family  were  gathered 
around  his  death-bed.  He  seemed  to  know  his  children 
—  asked  for  water,  thanked  them,  became  unconscious, 
and  never  awoke. 

On  Saturday  morning  at  eleven  o'clock,  at  the  funeral, 
tens  of  thousands  crowded  the  streets  of  Rochdale.  The 
oak  coffin  bore  four  wreaths  of  Howers  :  one  of  white 
and  yellow,  with  the  words,  "A  mark  of  respect  from 
Victoria,  11.  1.,"  one  from  the  Prince  and  Princess  ^i 
Wales,  a  third  from  the  working-people,  and  a  fourth 
from  ]\Iiss  Cobden,  •'  In  loving  memory  of  my  father's 
best  friend." 

One  hundred  of  Mr.  Bright's  employees  walked  on 
either  side  of  the  coffin,  a  knot  of  white  ribbon  in  each 
coat.  After  them  came  the  long  procession  of  societies 
from  all  parts  of  the  kingdom.  At  twelve  o'clock,  in 
perfect  silence,  the  coffin  was  lowered  into  the  grave. 
The  earth  was  not  filled  in ;  and  on  the  following  day, 
Sunday,  thousands  came  to  look  upon  the  casket  which 
held  one  of  England's  greatest  men. 

In  London  special  services  were  held  in  Westminster 
Abbey,  the  Temple  Church,  and  elsewhere.  In  the  House 
of  Lords,  as  well  as  the  House  of  Commons,  the  mourning 
was  sincere.     Gladstone  spoke  eloquently  of  the  dead. 

"  Of  mere  success,"  he  said,  "  he  was  indeed  a  con- 
spicuous example.     In  intellect,  he  might  lay  claim  to  a 


m 


sll 


^f! 


;ii 


lii^ij 


I  If 


\' 


258 


joiix  I  una  I  IT. 


most  distinguislu'd  placo ;  but  the  cliaractor  of  the  man 
lies  deeper  than  his  iiiteUect,  deeper  than  liis  eloquence, 
deeper  than  anything  which  can  be  described  or  placed 
upon  the  surface  ;  and  the  sui»renie  (.'ulogy  I  apprehend 
to  be  his  due  is  this  :  that  he  lilted  political  life  to  a 
higlier  elevation  and  a  loftier  standard,  and  that  he  has 
tliereby  bequeathed  to  his  country  the  character  of  a 
statesman  who  can  be  made  the  subject  not  only  of 
admiration,  and  not  only  of  gratitude,  but  even  of  what 
I  do  not  exaggerate  in  calling,  as  it  has  been  well  called 
already  by  one  of  his  admirers,  the  object  of  a 
reverential  contemplation." 

Lord  Salisbury  said  :  "  He  was  the  greatest  master  of 
Englisli  oratory  that  this  generation  —  I  may  say  several 
generations  bat^k  —  have  i)roduced.  I  liave  met  men 
who  luive  heard  I'itt  and  Fox,  and  in  whose  judgment 
their  eloquence,  at  the  best,  was  inferior  to  the  finest 
efforts  of  Jolin  Bright." 

]\rr.  Justin  ^McCarthy  spoke  for  the  Irish,  and  claimed 
for  himself  and  his  friends  "  the  right  to  lay  an  Irish 
wreath  on  this  great  Englishman's  grave." 

The  Times  expressed  the  general  feeling  of  press  and 
people  :  "  It  is  an  immense  thing  for  a  leader  of  vast 
masses  of  men  to  be  absolutely  pure,  loyiil,  and  disinter- 
ested ;  and  great  has  been  the  fortune  of  EngLand,  tliat 
in  so  critical  a  period  of  her  history  —  the  period  of  the 
enfranchisement  of  the  working-classes  —  the  acknowl- 
edged leader  of  those  newly  enfranchised  men  was  one 
so  pure,  so  loyal,  so  disinterested,  as  Jolin  Bright." 

In  the  death  of  John  Bright,  America  lost  one  of  her 
most  valued  friends  and  defenders ;  in  the  life  of  John 
Bright,  her  young  men  will  have  forever  a  noble  and 
rare  example. 


1, 


It  -jr. 


If 


i 


le  man 

luence, 

placed 

rehciul 

ife  to  a 

he  lias 

V  of  a 

>nly  of 

»f  what 

called 

of    a 


,  v: 


Lster  of 
several 
t  men 
Igment 
finest 

laimed 
1  Irish 

ss  and 
)f  vast 
isinter- 
d,  that 
of  the 
knowl- 
'as  one 

of  her 
P  John 
lie  and 


i^ 


u 


ir 


::r"  i 


iu 


m 


iij 


t, 


I 


li  ^ 


WILLIAM   EDWARD  FORSTER. 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FORSTER. 


■J'-' 


"  "\TT^  ^^^  ^^^  afford  to  lose  so  honest,  so  uiiselfisli,  and 

V  V     courageous  a  statesman  as  lie  was  in  tlitje  days, 
and  his  public  loss  is  very  great." 

Thus  wrote  Queen  Victoria  to  the  wife  of  this  di?- 
tii'jjuished  statesman,  just  after  his  death.  And  her 
words  were  not  unlike  those  which  came  from  every 
class  in  England,  and  from  America  as  well. 

William  Edward  Forster,  born  at  Bradpole,  Dorset- 
shire, July  11,  1818,  was  the  only  child  of  the  eminent 
Quaker  preachers,  William  Forster,  and  Anna  Buxton 
Forster. 

The  father  was  a  shy,  gentle,  humane  man,  who, 
devoted  to  spreading  the  gospel,  endured  many  hardships 
and  life-long  self-sacrifices  to  carry  on  liis  work.  He 
first  inspired  Sir  Thomas  Foweil  Buxton,  the  noted  mejr- 
ber  of  Parliament,  in  the  cause  of  abolition,  and  led 
Elizabeth  Fry  to  take  up  the  work  at  Xewgate. 

In  October,  181G,  the  minister,  somewhat  sombre,  and 
often  depressed  from  the  greatness  of  the  work  he  saw 
before  him,  married  Anna,  the  sister  of  Thomas  Foweil 
Buxton,  a  young  woman  beautiful  in  face,  of  fine  family 
and  address,  with  great  charm  and  vivacity  of  manner. 
Allied  to  the  wealthy  Gurneys  and  lUixtons,  she  accepted 
cheerfully  the  poverty  of  her  husband,  and  settled  in  a 
modest  thatched  stone  cottage  at  Bradpole. 

259 


'!  til 


\m 


if  111 
I 


r 


1 1  \ 

I'.i 

Hi 


m 


"  'I 


.-J 


I  ^ 


260 


]VILLTA}f  EDWARD  FORSTER. 


Its  plainness  was  relieved  by  a  garden,  hall  orciu'rd 
and  half  flovers.  "All  our  dear  friends,"  Viraam 
Forster  wrote  to  Joseph  John  Gurney,  "  seem  to  i:ancy 
us  very  happy  in  our  little  cottage,  and  rich  in  the 
enjoyment  of  each  other's  company  ;  and  truly  they  are 
not  mistaken.     Our  comforts  are  almost  without  alloy."' 

Into  this  home,  where  the  parents  were  "rich  in  the 
enjoyment  of  each  other's  company,"  but  poor  in  purse. 
the  only  child  William  Edward  came  to  bring  cheer  and 
comfort,  two  years  after  the  marriage. 

Soon  after  the  child's  birth,  the  father  felt  called  to 
go  to  America  on  a  mission  to  the  scattered  Friends. 
That  he  keenly  felt  the  separation  from  his  little  family, 
is  shown  by  his  letters  to  his  co-workers.  "  ]Many  are  my 
trials  of  faith  and  my  discouragements,"  he  wrote,  "and 
deep  and  heavy  the  conflict  of  natural  affe'ction  and 
feeling.  I  need  not  tell  thee  how  hard  it  is  to  look 
towards  so  long  and  distant  a  separation  from  my 
beloved  and  most  loving  and  lieli)ful  wife  and  our  sweet 
little  boy.  ...  I  w'.sh  to  serve  the  Lord  with  cheerful- 
ness and  resignation  :  but,  alas  !  the  flesh  is  very  weak : 
but  may  I  never  forget  that,  impossible  as  it  seems  to 
me,  with  God  all  things  are  possible." 

In  April,  1820,  William  Forster  embarked  at  IJristol 
for  America.  Just  before  he  separated  from  his  wile, 
some  twenty  friends  knelt  in  the  cabin  of  the  vessel,  and 
she  "  returned  thanks  for  the  prospect  which  was  given 
her  of  William's  safe  voyage." 

She  wrote  him  often,  in  her  loneliness:  "I  ave 
inde(^d  had  to  drink  a  bitter  cup.  A  very  suffering  })ath 
has  this  separation  been  to  me,  and  must  I  not  expect 
will  often  be.  .  .  .  Our  darling  boy  is  finely  and  truly 
lovely,  so  very  affectionate  in  his  manner.  .  .  .  He  puts 


;nj'r(l 


given 


]VILLIAM  EDWARD  FORSTER. 


2(31 


^! 


if 


his  IuiirI  out  when  I  ask  where  clear  papa  is,  and  says 
'  Gone/  and  wiien  I  asked  if  he  loved  thee,  has  answered 
me  '  Yes.'  .  .  . 

''  On  Third  Day  morning,  sweet  Willy  said,  before  it 
was  quite  light,  '  What  did  thee  cry  for  so  last  night  ? 
Will  thee  cry  any  more  ?     Is  thee  crying  now  ?  '  " 

]\Irs.  Forster  felt  equally  called  to  the  work  of  the 
ministry.  Once,  when  the  child  was  with  his  nurse,  an 
old  gentleman  asked,  "  Where  is  your  papa,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  Papa  is  preaching  in  America,"  was  the  reply. 

"And  where  is  your  mamma  ?  " 

"]Mamma  is  preaching  in  Ireland,"  was  the  answer. 

Mr,  Forster  travelled  through  the  Northern  and  South- 
ern States,  and  in  Canada,  in  his  labor  of  love.  After 
five  years  of  absence,  he  returned  to  his  simple  home, 
and  his  dear  ones. 

When  the  son  was  ten,  he  began  to  receive  lessons  from 
Mv.  Taylor,  the  curate  of  Bradpole.  The  boy  was  deli- 
cate in  health,  and  could  not  give  much  time  to  books. 
He  passionately  loved  nature,  and  used  to  write  in  his 
diaries  concerning  the  homes  and  habits  of  birds,  and  the 
various  kinds  of  flowers  which  he  found. 

He  read  the  newspapers  carefully,  as,  indeed,  he  did 
through  life.  At  thirteen  he  read  the  '•  History  of 
]\Iary,  Queen  of  Scots,"  IJourrienne's  "  Life  of  Napoleon," 
and  the  like  ;  and  wrote  oub  his  views  upon  them,  ^Lt 
this  age  he  had  decided  to  become  a  lawyer.  He  told  his 
aunt,  ]\riss  Sarah  Buxton,  and  her  friend  Anna  Gurney, 
whose  house  was  like  a  home  to  him:  "  jVIy  father  has 
given  me  a  choice  of  two  professions,  —  medicine  or  law, 
—  but  I  shall  take  to  tbe  law,  because  in  that  line  I 
may  get  into  rarliament."  Evidently  the  child  in  the 
plain  home  was  aspiring  to  something  which  seemed  very 
far  beyond  his  reach. 


"St 


II  tl 


11 


i 

i  i 
■  'I 


frit 


■!    : 


■■     U 


i  J? 


:hil! 


'II 


■i 


{!  ■'i:^'' 


!  i! 


It 


^d  u 


262 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FORSTEB. 


This  home  of  the  aunt  became  invaluable  to  the  boy. 
Anna  Gurney  knew  many  languages ;  Latin,  Greek, 
Norse,  and  other  Northern  tongues.  She  was  an  omniv- 
orous reader,  and  was  a  constant  stimulus  to  the  lad 
in  intellectual  tilings.  In  the  lives  of  most  men  who 
have  come  into  prominence,  will  be  found  an  Anna 
Gurney,  —  the  name  may  have  a  thousand  variations,  — 
who  has  been  one  of  the  forces  which  pushed  them  on  to 
success. 

At  thirteen  the  boy  was  sent  to  a  Friends'  School  at 
Fishponds  House,  Bristol ;  where,  says  Mr.  T.  Wemyss 
Reid,  "  instruction  in  every  known  branch  of  literature 
and  the  sciences  "  was  given.  The  school  hours  were 
from  6.30  a.  m.  to  6  p.  m  !  During  the  first  six  months, 
the  parents  spent  about  seventy-five  dollars  for  books 
alone,  which  their  child  was  supposed  to  need. 

He  wrote  home  that  he  was  in  the  first  class  in  Greek, 
and  soon  to  be  in  German  and  in  Latin.  "  I  had  been 
rather  low  yesterday  morning,"  he  wrote,  "being  afraid 
I  sliould  not  have  a  letter ;  but  as  soon  as  I  had  them, 
they  set  me  all  to  rights,  they  were  so  ver//]und.  1  like 
to  have  them  on  First  Dav,  because  then  I  can  read  them 
over  and  over  again,  and  almost  learn  them  by  heart 
without  any  interruption.  .  .  . 

"  I  'im  sure  T  do  not  know  what  I  should  be  able  to 
do  without  }our  letters;  I  could  keep  every  word  of 
tli.eiiK  they  are  sucl^  a  pleasure  to  me.  I  wish  you 
v^  oiild  s;vv  now  yov;  are  in  every  letter ;  for  if  you 
Uon''c.  sfiy^  1  shall  be  always  afraid  there  is  something 
ti.o  :i\'itf>^r." 

Ac  /'H.rtec !  William  was  removed  to  a  school  at  Grove 
Hr  1%.  Tottenham.  Here  ho  gave  close  attention  to  his 
studies,  rising  at  four  o'clock  in  tlic  morning  to  complete 


;.} 


WILLIAM  ED  WARD  FOIiSTER. 


2(;3 


the  work.     He  excelled  especially  in  mathematics,  think- 
ing it  "  the  noblest  of  all  human  sciences." 

Pie  wrote  to  his  father:  "I  have  drawn  up  a  set  of 
regulations  for  the  use  of  my  playtime,  by  which,  either 
in  my  playtime,  or  by  getting  up  in  the  morning,  or  by 
reading  in  bed,  I  obtain  in  every  week,  not  including  the 
evenings,  five  and  a  half  hours  mathematics,  and  eleven 
and  a  half  hours  reading;  and  I  have  set  myself  in  my 
leisure  time  in  the  evening, — two  evenings  for  themes, 
two  for  nuithematics,  one  for  Latin  verses,  and  one  for 
Greek  Testament  and  sundries." 

Knowing  well  the  circumstances  of  his  parents,  he 
wrote  them  when  he  was  sixteen  :  "  How  most  truly 
kind  it  is  of  you  to  let  me  stop  at  school  another  half ! 
How  few  parents  there  are  who  would  do  so  !  However, 
I  think  your  kindness  will,  and,  indeed,  has  had  the  effect 
of  spurring  me  on,  rather  than  making  me  ic'    ." 

Young  Forster  had  reached  his  eighteentl 
now  he  must  decide  the  question  which  h 
many  thousands  of  young  men :  "  What 
life  work  ?  " 

His  father  had  finally  become  opp' 
showing  his  son  the  many  years  which  vould  probably 
pass  before  he  could  attain  even  a  slender  support,  say- 
ing nothing  of  a  competency,  or  a  positini  in  the  House 
of  Commons.  He  wrote  to  liis  father  after  one  of  these 
discouraging  epistles  :  "  K  it  is  quite  certain  that  I  could 
not  get  a  name  at  the  bar  till  fort}',  ther-  is  most  cer- 
tainly an  end  of  all  thoughts  about  it  —  a  most  complete 
knock-down." 

William  Forster  had  chosen  poverty,  and  he  had 
learned  wliat  all  learn  wlio  have  to  bear  its  hardships; 
that  while  it  ni;iv  brini:'  blessings,  it  brings  much  sorrow. 


■ar.     And 

puzzled  so 

>uld  be   his 

to  the  law. 


I .',. 


,1    ':' 


m 


M  M 


1 


'4 


H 


I    I 


i 


Si! ' ! 

it 


j  I 


*ii 


Mil 


204 


TriL  L  L 1 .1/  ;<;/;  i  \  m  ii'  />  fou  s  teu. 


He  shrank,  with  his  whole  nature,  from  this  hard  lot  Tor 
his  only  child,  and  who  can  blame  him  ? 

Years  of  anxiety,  and  change,  and  poverty,  were  to 
be  the  lot  ^^f  the  young  student.  At  first  an  attemj)t 
was  made  to  obtain  for  William  Edward  a  place  in  a 
solicitor's  offit/^,  but  no  success  resulted.  Then  there 
came  a  i)rospect  of  a  clerkship  in  Gurney's  bank,  which 
prospect  delighted  the  father ;  but  this  came  to  naught. 
Then  it  became  evident  that  the  youth  must  try  business. 
He  and  his  father  wrote  to  various  parts  of  the  country, 
but  there  seemed  no  opening ;  at  least,  none  where  Mr. 
Forster  lelt  that  his  boy  would  be  comparatively  safe 
from  evil  influences.  Finally,  through  Mr.  Joseph  Gur- 
ney,  a  position  was  found  with  a  jNIr.  Kobberds,  a  wea '•er 
of  hand-loom  camlets  at  Norwich. 

'.'"'he  youth,  who  had  been  writing  at  school  on  such 
matters  as  "The  Advantages  to  Civilization  from  Educa- 
tion," and  "The  Causes  of  the  ^Misery  with  which  Ire- 
land has  been  and  is  now  afflicted,"  began  to  learn  the 
trade  of  weaving,  from  the  very  beginning.  He  had  a 
hand-loom  of  his  own,  and,  whether  to  his  liking  or  not, 
he  worked  diligently  and  enthusiastically. 

He  wrote  to  his  mother :  "  Kobberds  kindly  took  me 
to  a  yarn  factory,  and  showed  me  all  about  it ;  because 
tliouseest,  my  dear  mother,  lam  to  overlook  the  educa- 
cation  of  the  dear  child  Camlet,  from  the  back  of  a  Nor- 
folk sheep  till  it  gets  to  the  back  of  myself,  barring  the 
tailoring;  for  I  mean  to  have  a  camlet  coat  with  all  due 
velocity.  I  am  to  warp  some  thrums  myself,  and  intend 
to  weave  thee  a  party-colored  cloak  of  scarlet,  yellow,  and 
blue. 

"I  came  back  at  five  most  ferociously  hungry,  seeing 
that  I  had  eaten  nothinu:  wliatever.      llobberds  told  me 


'v 


Mlil 


)yiLLIAM   KDWAUD  FOliSTEIi. 


205 


that  he  never  thought  of  luncheon.  However,  I  gave 
him  to  understand  that  I  intended  to  think  of  it  for  half 
or  at  least  a  quarter  of  an  hour  every  day.  T  do  hope 
that  I  feel  grateful  to  Joseph  Gurney  and  my  other  most 
kind  friends ;  and  I  am  sure  I  need,  for  what  a  great 
comfort  it  is  to  be  on  the  way  to  stand  on  one's 
own  legs." 

Devotedly  attached  to  his  father  and  mother,  "William 
visited  them  often  at  liradpole,  now  ;ind  then  asking  a 
friend  to  accompany  him.  He  wvc^U.  l-i^  friend  Barclay 
Fox:  — 

"My  parents  are  as  poor  as  rats,  which  is  a  very  great 
plague  —  but  I  hope  to  make  some  money  before  long  — 
and  consequently  we  live  in  quite  a  small  way,  for  ex- 
ample, keeping  neither  carriage,  nor  gig,  nor  horses, 
only  a  small  pony,  on  which  my  mother  generally  rides 
to  meetings;  and  our  house  is  quite  a  cottage.  Nothing 
is  further  from  my  wish  than  in  any  the  slightest 
degree,  to  discourage  thy  coming.  There  is  nothing  1 
should  enjoy  so  much,  and  both  my  father  and  mother 
will  like  it  extremely.  Xor  do  I  think  so  lowly  of  my 
friend  as  to  suppose  that  he  would  take  such  things  into 
account  in  his  friendship;  but  still  I  thought  it  n'ouhl 
be  best  that  thou  shouhlst  have  a  clear  idea  of  things, 
as  I  should  be  sorry  to  be  so  sellish  as  to  take  thee  away 
from  other  visits  which  I  fear  would  have  more  iu  them 
to  give  thee  pleasure." 

The  years  with  ^Ir.  Robberds  were  of  course  unevent- 
ful years,  at  which  the  ambitious  youth  probably  chafed. 
He  wrote  to  his  friend  l)arclay,  <  u  his  nineteenth  birth- 
da}^  :  — 

"Well,  if  the  next  threes  years  have  not  more  stir  in 
them  than  all  the  other  nineteen,  it  sha'u't  be  my  fault. 


i 


i! 


ill 


:ihi! 


i  I    1 


I    !' 


I: 


26a 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FOIiSrKR. 


By  the  by,  T  become  a  salaried  clerk  to-day,  with  sixty 
pounds  salary  tlie  first  year,  and  one  hundred  pounds 
the  next. 

"  At  present  T  am  writing  for  a  prize  of  fifty  pounds 
offered  by  tlie  Aborigines  Society.  My  great  literary 
ambition  is  a  liberal,  literary,  entertaining,  philanthroi)ic 
magazine :  one  which  should  be  cheap  enough  to  get  a 
large  circulation,  if  it  deserved  it ;  one  which  should  have 
a  decided  religious  tendency,  without  being  so  regularly 
religious  as  to  drive  people  away  from  it ;  which  would 
sliow  that  there  can  be  innocent  amusement,  and  which 
should  not  attempt  to  check,  but  rather  to  turn  to  good 
])urpo&i\^<,  the  radical,  renovating  spirit  of  the  age.  .  .  . 
Thou  m'ist  come  soon.  .  .  .  Oh,  dear!  howl  should  like 
some  fun.  .  .  .  Pickwick  is  my  great  comfort." 

The  youth  on  sixty  pounds  a  year  did  not  attempt  to 
launcii  a  new  magazine,  or  he  might  have  learned  a  sad 
lesson  in  finance,  as  many  another  ambitious  person  has 
learned. 

^Meantime  the  mother  and  father  had  given  up  their 
liome  at  Bradpole,  and  moved  to  Norwich,  that  their  son 
might  be  with  them.  As  ]iis  health  was  not  good,  and 
he  had  begun  to  fear  also  that  he  might  live  in  Nor- 
wich many  years  without  great  success,  he  temporarily 
gave  up  his  position,  and  went  to  the  North  of  England 
to  visit  friends. 

His  parents,  and  himself  as  well,  were  still  worried 
over  the  future.  One  hundred  pounds  a  year  would  not 
make  him  and  them  comfortable.  Tlie  old  question  of 
poverty  was  ever  present.  Perhaps  it  made  them  all 
the  dearer  to  ea(!h  other,  for  each  seemed  to  have  no 
wish  or  thought  but  for  the  other. 

While  away  on  this  visit  to  friends,  a  place  was  found 


William  kdwaud  fousteu. 


207 


like 


for  William  in  some  woollen  mills  at  Darlington.     It  was 
not  easy  work.     He  wrote  to  his  father  :  — 

"  I  am  thoroughly  settled  into  wool-sortiiij.*,  with  my 
slip,  paper  cap,  and  shears.  j\Iy  hours  as  yet  at  the 
mill  have  been  from  six  to  six,  with  an  hour  for  break- 
fast, and  an  hour  and  a  half  for  dinner.  ...  1  stand  the 
whole  time,  which  is  tiring  as  yet,  but  I  hope  soon  to 
get  used  to  it.  The  employment  is  very  dirty ;  but  of 
course  I  do  not  mind  that,  nor  the  length  of  the  hours. 
The  only  tiling  I  do  mind,  and  that  I  cannot  conceal 
from  thee,  though  of  course  I  should  not  tell  mv  friends 
here,  is  its  tedious  drudgery ;  the  little  employment 
for  one's  thoughts,  which  makes  me  very  glad  to  get 
over  each  hour  of  work.  However,  if  it  be  drudgery 
that  will  tell,  I  hope  I  am  man  enough  to  bear  it,  and 
in  tim(>  nol:  to  mind  it." 

Hard  at  work  from  six  to  six,  he  must  still  use  his 
mind  in  the  evenings;  for,  if  now  there  seemed  no  hope 
that  lit  would  ev^er  enter  the  House  of  Commons,  he 
sometimes  had,  as  he  wrote  Barclay  Fox,  "  A  violent 
desire  to  do  good  in  my  generation." 

He  wrote  to  his  parents  to  send  him  "Abbot's  Trig- 
onometry, Hamilton's  Conic  Sections,  Laeroix's  Dif- 
ferential Calculus,  and  especially  Taylor's  Elements  of 
Algebra." 

Even  all  this  work  was  not  enough.  He  must  help 
in  the  great  questions  of  the  day.  He  could  not  but  be 
interested  in  slavery,  since  his  father  and  his  uncle, 
Fowell  Buxton,  had  devoted  much  of  their  lives  to  the 
subject.  j\rr.  Buxton  was  now  endeavoring  to  awake 
England  to  the  development  of  Africa,  and  thus  help  to 
stop  the  infamous  slave  trade.  He  wished  to  pre])are  a 
statement  to  be  submitted  to  Lord  Melbourne,  Prime 
Minister,  and  his  Cabinet. 


II 


m 


' 


IMi?: 


208 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FOliSTEli. 


Into  tills,  the  work  of  months,  young  Forster  entered 
heartily.  He  compiled  stiitistics,  and  argued  from  tlicui 
of  the  new  day  for  Africa,  when  commerce  should  be 
developed,  and  the  slave  trallic  abolished. 

The  uncle  was  delighted,  and  said,  "  Well  done,  Willy  ! 
He  has  entirely  beat  us  both." 

When  it  was  decided  to  send  out  a  company  to  Africa 
for  the  purpose  of  acquiring  land  and  carrying  on  trade, 
young  Forster  was  most  anxious  to  go,  but  to  this  his 
parents  could  not  consent.  The  Niger  ex})edition  proved 
a  failure ;  and  had  Forster  gone  he  would  have  died 
probably  like  the  rest,  with  his  life  work  undone. 

Evidently  good  Mr.  Forster  was  troubled  lest  his  son 
be  drawn  away  from  business  —  one  missionary  in  the 
family  was  all  its  pecuniary  condition  worla  bear  —  for 
the  son  wrote  :  "  I  do  most  fully  agree  with  thee,  that  I 
ought  to  make  use  of  every  advantage  I  can,  and  espe- 
cially to  endeavor  to  gain  a  character  for  business  habits." 

In  1839  young  Forster  left  Darlington,  and  entered 
an  office  in  London,  that  he  might  learn  something  of 
counting-house  work  and  business  correspondence.  These 
were  all  anxious  months.  He  wrote  Barclay  just  pre- 
vious to  this  :  "  I  can't  see  an  inch  before  me.  I  want 
to  be  at  something  in  the  way  of  getting  a  living,  but 
don't  know  precisely  what  to  be  at.  .  .  . 

"  There  is  no  getting  rid  of  the  too  true  fact  that  this 
life  is  a  struggle  ;  at  least,  I  find  it  so,  and  a  pretty  hard 
one,  too." 

In  London  he  provided  his  own  breakfasts  and  teas, 
buying  his  dinners  at  chop-houses.  Truly  his  life  at 
twenty-one  was  neither  very  eventful  nor  cheering. 
He,  however,  managed,  as  we  all  might,  to  get  hapi)i- 
ness  out  of  little  things.     He  wrote  to  his  mother :  '•'  I 


WILLTAM  EDWARD  FOItSTER. 


2G9 


have  a  most  doliglitful  black  kitten  sitting  in  my  easy- 
chair  just  now  ;  a  most  retined,  graceful,  intellectual, 
amusing  puss.  In  fact,  she  is  altogether  the  charm  of 
the  Ih'ibitation,  and  when  I  march  '^Jf,  which  I  shall  do 
ere  long,  I  shall  elope  with  her  in  my  pocket." 

All  along  his  father  had  hoped  for  an  opening  in  one 
of  the  London  bt^.iks,  but  this  was  at  last  given  up. 
His  uncle  now  offered  him  a  i)osition  in  his  brewery, 
but  he  declined  the  offer,  as  he  could  not  conscientiously 
adopt  a  business  so  fraught  with  harm  to  liis  fellow-men. 

In  the  summer  of  1841,  an  opening  came  unexpectedly. 
Mr.  Forster,  in  his  mission  journeys,  had  met  "Mr.  James 
Fison,  the  li?ad  of  a  wool-stapling  business,  of  Thetford, 
Norfolk.  I)oth  were  Christian  men,  and  therefore  in 
sympathy,  and  both  perplexed  about  the  future  of  their 
sons.  The  result  was  that  William  Edward  and  Mr. 
T.  S.  Fison,  the  son  of  James  Fison,  became  partners  in 
wool-stapling,  at  Bradford.  A  year  later,  in  1842,  when 
William  was  twenty-four,  he  became  a  partner  of  Mr. 
William  Fison  in  the  manufacture  of  woollen  goods. 

Both  young  men  began  on  borrowed  capital,  both  were 
energetic  and  devoted  to  business,  and  both  in  time 
became  wealthy.  The  long  hard  years  of  poverty  were 
exchanged  for  comfort  and.  culture.  And  the  devoted 
parents  shared  in  all  this  change  of  fortune.  The  part- 
nership continued  until  Mr.  Forster's  death,  and  the 
business  is  now  carried  on  by  their  sons,  Mr.  F.  W. 
Fison  and  ]\[r.  E.  V.  Arnold-Forster. 

Now  that  Forster  had  found  a  way  to  earn  his  living, 
and  provide  also  for  those  who  were  dear  to  him,  he  at 
once  began  to  join  in  public  work,  both  political  and 
social.  lie  lead  Carlyle,  and  later  became  one  of  his 
intimate  friends.     He  read  the  Life  of  Dr.  Arnold,  and 


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270 


WILLIAM  EDWAIiD  FORSTEIi, 


said:  "I  think  I  never  met  with  a  book  at  once  so 
pleasant  and  so  profitable.  His  noble,  brave,  loving 
heart,  so  earnest,  yet  so  humble,  so  zealous  for  truth,  so 
charitable  to  error,  his  life  of  constant  work,  'unhasting 
yet  unresting '  (liis  very  pleasure  and  recreation,  labor)  ; 
his  intellect  at  once  so  deep  and  so  comprehensive,  the 
contemplation  of  this  rare  union  of  the  eye  to  see,  the 
hand  to  act,  with  the  heart  to  feel,  and  above  all  the  will 
to  direct,  is  at  once  both  humbling  and  inspiring.  .  .  . 
I  have  been  slow  in  getting  through  Dr.  A.,  for  I  wished 
to  feel  every  word  as  I  went  on." 

To  Arnold  might  be  applied  the  words  of  John  !Morley 
on  Richard  Cobden  :  "  When  he  read  a  book,  he  read  it 
as  all  reading  should  be  done,  with  a  view  to  life  and 
practice,  and  not  in  the  way  of  refined  self-indulgence." 
Forster  met  the  gifted  John  Sterling,  and  through  him 
that  lovable  cliaracter,  the  Rev.  Frederick  Denison 
Maurice.  Thomas  Cooper,  the  poet  of  the  Chartists, 
although  nearly  twice  the  age  of  Forster,  also  became 
one  of  his  friends.  He  used  often  to  say  to  Cooper,  "  If 
I  had  to  take  a  part  in  the  administration  of  affairs  in 
this  country,  I  would  strive  to  accomplish  two  great 
purposes,  —  to  give  relief,  and  lasting  relief,  to  poor 
Ireland  ;  and  to  get  the  children  of  the  working-classes 
out  of  the  gutter  by  educating  them." 

At  his  cheerful  rooms,  in  the  hamlet  of  Bolton,  near 
Bradford,  made  attractive  with  many  books,  he  often 
entertained  the  children  of  the  Bolton  infant  school,  or 
those  in  his  employ.  He  soon  came  to  be  known  as  the 
friend  of  the  working-men.  He  was  called  Long  Forster, 
from  his  tall  frame,  and  his  walks  for  pleasure,  wliich 
often  covered  thirty  miles. 

At  his  first   political   speech  at   Bradford,  when  he 


WILLIAM  i:i)\VAllD  FOltSTElt. 


271 


SO 


took  the  part  of  the  Chartists,  aiul  dct'larecl  hiiusolf  in 
favor  of  universal  suffrage,  some  of  tlie  world iig-nieii 
even  feared  that  lie  was  going  too  far.  "  He's  a  rare 
talker,'' said  one  man  to  another.  "1  always  tho't  he 
were  unsensible." 

In  1845  the  father  went  to  America  on  his  second 
religious  mission.  The  son  corres})onded  constantly  with 
his  lonely  mother,  who  seemed  his  other  self,  and  they 
fre(|uently  exchanged  visits. 

In  September,  1846,  at  his  annual  holiday,  he  deter- 
mined to  visit  Ireland,  then  suffering  from  a  dreadful 
famine.  He  found  the  want  and  starvation  beyond  his 
worst  expectations.  He  wrote  to  his  father,  who  had 
by  tliis  time  returned  from  America:  "I  will  give  an 
instance  in  my  mountain-guide  yesterday,  whom  I  picked 
by  chance  out  of  a  field,  —  a  noble-looking  fellow,  with  a 
fine  forehead,  aquiline  nose,  and  stately  gait,  but  with 
almost  no  clotlies,  bare-legged — his  thighs  staring 
through  his  tattered  corduroys  —  no  shirt.  His  hire 
was  sixpence  per  day,  with  diet,  paying  at  that  rate  in 
labor,  five  pounds  per  annum  for  his  acre  of  potatoes, 
which  have  entirely  failed.  A  \vife  and  four  small  chil- 
dren :  the  children  earning  nothing.  He  said,  '  We  were 
starving  before  ;  we  must  die  now.' " 

Forster  records  in  his  diary  :  ''  The  town  of  ^Vestport  a 
collection  of  beggars  :  the  inn  beset  by  a  crowd  of  gaunt 
creatures,  beseeching  Lynch,  the  head  of  the  works,  f(jr 
tickets.  ...  A  warm-hearted  man,  a  Dr.  Derkee,  of 
Louisburg,  called.  The  peo}>le  dying,  he  says,  by  ten 
and  twenty  a  day,  carried  off  by  diarrlue^a,  and  dysentery, 
for  want  of  food.  .  .  .  A\'onuin  yesterday  i)ulled  into  a 
barn  in  agony  of  death.  Another  corpse  carried  up  the 
streets  to  bury  in  a  wheelbarrow,  till  D'Arcy  gave  money 


^1 


■'i' 


:'•  f\ 


272 


WILLIAM  EDW'Alil)  FOliSTEli. 


'  * 


out  of  liis  own  pocket  for  a  coffin.  ...  A  poor  fellow 
who  carried  our  bag  three  miles  or  more,  Lady  L.  gave 
three  quarts  of  meal  to.  He  seized  some  of  it  raw,  and 
said   he   had   had   nothing   since    breakfast    yesterday 


morning. 


» 


Forster  gave  liberally  coal,  meal,  and  money,  even  more 
than  he  could  afford.  On  his  return,  he  wrote  an  account 
of  his  experiences  for  the  Society  of  Friends,  who  already 
had  sent  his  father  to  Ireland  to  dispense  their  charities. 

In  this  report  he  said  :  "  The  misery  of  Ireland  must 
increase  dail}',  so  far  as  regards  her  own  resources,  for 
daily  they  become  less.  To  England  must  she  tliis  year 
look  to  save  the  lives  of  her  children  ;  nor  will  the  need 
for  English  aid  cease  this  year.  It  will  be  long  before, 
even  with  her  utmost  efforts,  she  can  recover  from  this 
blow,  or  will  be  able  to  support  her  own  population. 
She  must  be  a  grievous  burden  on  our  resources  in  return 
for  long  centuries  of  neglect  and  oppression. 

"No  one  of  us  can  have  a  right  to  enjoy  either  riches 
or  repose  until,  to  the  extent  of  his  ability,  he  tries  to 
wash  himself  of  all  share  in  the  guilt  of  this  i'earful 
inequality,  which  will  be  a  blot  in  the  history  of  our 
country  and  make  her  a  by-word  among  the  nations." 

Forster  also  met  the  committee  of  the  British  Asso- 
ciation, composed  of  such  men  as  Eothschild  and  other 
millionnaires,  and  laid  before  them  the  needs  of  Ireland. 

In  the  summer  of  1847,  having  moved  his  home  from 
Bolton  to  Kawdon,  he  received  a  three-weeks'  visit  from 
INIr.  and  ]\Irs.  Carlyle.  Lord  Houghton,  then  Richard 
Moiickton  ^Millies,  was  also  a  friend,  and  came  over  to 
join  the  party.  "While  Carlyle  was  ever,  to  Forster,  "the 
greatest  modifying  force  of  this  century,"  for  ^frs.  Car- 
lyle he  had  even  greater  admiration.     He  said,  "  She  was 


J 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FORSTER. 


273 


allow 

gave 

',  and 

erday 

more 
scount 
[ready 
irities. 
.  must 
es,  for 
is  year 
e  need 
before, 
m  this 
Alation. 
1  return 

riches 
tries  to 
•'earful 
of  our 
)ns." 
h  Asso- 
id  otlu'r 
Ireland, 
ne  from 
sit  from 
"Richard 
over  to 
ter,  "  the 
Mrs.  Car- 
She  was 


one  of  those  few  women  to  whom  a  man  could  talk  all 
day,  or  listen  all  day,  with  equal  pleasure." 

Forster  wrote  to  Barclay  Fox  that  ]Milnes  "defended 
all  manner  of  people  and  principles  in  order  to  provoke 
Carlyle  to  abuse  them,  in  which  laudable  enterprise  he 
must  have  succeeded  to  his  heart's  content,  and  for  a  time 
we  had  a  most  amusing  evening,  reminding  me  of  a 
naughty  boy,  rubbing  a  fierce  cat's  tail  backwards,  and 
getting  on  between  furious  growls  and  fiery  sparks,  but 
managing  to  avoid  the  threatened  scratches." 

Forster  was  then  reading  Louis  Blanc's  "  Organisa- 
flojide  yra^v^/V,"  Carlyle's  "Chartism,  the  Peril  of  the 
Nation,"  and  Thornton's  "  Over  Population."  He  was 
also  speaking  to  "  six  or  eight  thousand  people  from  the 
top  of  a  wagon,"  mostly  Chartists,  of  whom  he  wrote  to 
his  mother  :  "  Unless  some  political  concessions  be  made 
to  these  masses,  and  unless  all  classes  strive  earnestly 
to  keep  them  better  fed,  first  or  last,  there  will  be  a  con- 
vulsion ;  but  I  believe  the  best  political  method  of  pre- 
venting it  is  by  the  middle  class  sympathizing  with  the 
operatives,  and  giving  themselves  power  to  oppose  their 
unjust  claims  by  helping  them  in  those  which  are  reason- 
able." 

In  the  spring  of  1848,  becoming  even  more  deeply 
interested  in  the  future  of  England,  Forster  went  to  Paris 
to  study  the  Revolution.  Louis  Philippe  had  abdicated, 
and  Louis  Napoleon  was  not  to  become  President  until 
the  winter.  He  saw  Lamartine,  Louis  Plane,  and  Blanqui, 
and  was  "  sorry  enough  to  leave  Paris,"  after  his  few 
weeks'  visit. 

In  the  spring  of  1849  Forster  revisited  Ireland,  and 
found,  as  ever,  most  unfortunate  conditions.  "  Thanks 
to  the  Poor  Law,  no  famine  ;  but  the  cabins  unroofed, 


1^ 

m. 


I 'I 


i      :! 


nil 


'(^ 


fki!        ! 


'  I         ! 


:' 


274 


WILLIAM  ED]]  A  111)  FOnSTER. 


the  tenants  in  the  work-house,  or  underground,  or  emi- 
grated ;  the  hmdlords,  many  of  them,  run  away  or  hiding 


in  houses  for  fear  of  bailiffs." 

After  tliis  Forster  went  again  to  Paris,  with  his  friend 
]\Ir.  Tiiomas  Cooper.  On  his  return  to  Bradford,  whicli 
was  suffering  from  chohn-a,  he  visited  the  houses  of  tlie 
poor,  —  li(>  never  hacked  courage  in  the  most  trying  phices 
of  a  trying  life,  —  and  provided  doctors  and  nurses  for 
the  sick,  and  coffins  for  the  dead. 

He  had  delivered  already  three  lectures  before  the 
Mechanics'  Institute  of  Bradford,  on  "  I'auperism  and 
its  Broposed  llemedies."  He  favored  lightening  of  taxes 
upon  the  laborer,  assisted  emigration,  the  discontinu- 
ance of  game  preserves  and  entail  laws,  state  aid  to 
education,  and  a  much  larger  degree  of  state  aid  and 
supervision  than  had  heretofore  been  recognized.  He 
spoke  without  notes,  and  was  so  original  and  so  in 
advance  of  the  thought  of  the  time,  that  he  was  invited 
to  speak  elsewhere,  and  soon  became  known  on  many 
platforms. 

Bichard  Cobden  wrote  Forster,  years  afterwards :  "  I 
am  not  an  habitual  reader  of  speeches.  .  .  .  You  and 
Bright  are  exceptions  to  my  rule.  Your  utterances 
have  a  distinct  meaning.  Gladstone's  speeches  have  the 
effect  on  my  mind  of  a  beautiful  strain  of  music.  I  can 
rarely  renuMuber  any  clear,  uufpuililied  expression  of 
0})inion,  outside  his  political,  economical,  and  financial 
statements.  I  remember,  on  the  occasion  when  he  left 
Sir  Bobert  Beel's  government  on  account  of  the  ^lay- 
nooth  grants,  and  when  the  House  nu't  in  unusual  num- 
bers to  hear  his  explanation,  T  sat  for  an  hour,  listening 
with  real  pleasure  to  his  beautiful,  rhetorical  involutions 
and  evolutions,  and  at  the  close  saying,  *What  a  mar- 


I 


' 


WILLIAM  EDU'AliD   FOJiSTEIi. 


275 


or  emi- 
liicliug 


s  frioiid 
I,  wliicli 
I  of  the 
g  places 
rses  for 

fore  the 
ism  and 
of  taxes 
;contimi- 
i  aid  to 
aid  and 
:ed.  He 
id  so  in 
3  invited 
jn  many 

ards :  "  I 
You  and 
terances 
lave  the 
I  can 
ssion  of 
financial 
he  left 
he  ^lay- 
ual  nuni- 
listening 
olutions 
it  a  mar- 


II 


vellous  talent  it  is !  Here  have  I  been  listening  with 
pleasure  for  an  hour  to  his  explanation,  and  1  know  no 
more  why  he  left  the  government  than  before  he  com- 
menced ! ' " 

Perhaps  with  reason,  some  of  the  men  who  had  loaned 
money  to  Forster,  feared  that  so  much  interest  in  succor 
and  suffrage  for  the  people,  would  not  make  his  business 
a  success;  but  he  steadily  prospered,  being  able  to  carry 
forward  several  different  lines  of  work  at  the  same  time. 

Forster  had  already  made  the  acquaintance  of  Emerson, 
in  whose  writings  he  was  deeply  interested,  ;.nd  had 
received  a  visit  from  him.  "  Emerson  decidedly  im- 
proves upon  acquaintance,"  he  said ;  "  is  really  social, 
and  both  willing  and  able  to  talk  on  all  subjects,  and, 
what  is  far  more  fascinating,  to  listen." 

Emerson  exemplified  Disraeli's  definition  of  conversa- 
tion in  "  Coningsby  :  "  "  It  consists  in  the  exercise  of  two 
fine  qualities.  You  must  originate,  and  you  must  sympa- 
thize ;  you  must  possess  at  the  same  time  the  habit  of 
communicating  and  the  habit  of  listening.  The  union  is 
rather  rare,  but  irresistible." 

Evidently  the  wool-manufacturer,  the  friend  of  such 
men  as  Carlyle  and  Emerson,  the  lecturer  on  practical 
reforms,  was  coming  into  the  prominence  of  which  he  had 
dreamed  when,  a  boy  of  twelve,  he  wished  to  study  law 
and  enter  the  House  of  Commons. 

Mr.  Forster  was  now  thirty-two,  a  man  of  means,  and 
about  to  take  the  most  important  step  in  life,  either  for 
good  or  evil.  In  the  summer  of  1850  he  married  Jane 
Arnold,  the  daughter  of  the  famous  Dr.  Arnold  of  llugby. 
To  Forster  this  nuxrriage  to  a  woman  of  loveliness 
and  culture,  and  into  such  a  rare  family,  brought  unmixed 
good. 


270 


WILLIAM   EJ>\]'.\IW   FOnSTEU. 


:<.  >■ 


Having  marriod  tlio  daiigliter  of  a  clergyman  of  the 
Cliiireli  of  England,  lie  was  necessarily  sei)arated  from 
the  Friends,  who  at  that  time  expelled  members  for 
mixed  marriages.  Years  afterwards  Forster  said  to  a 
depntation  of  Quakers,  "  Your  people  turned  me  out  of  the 
Society  for  doing  the  best  thing  I  ever  did  in  my  life."' 

Eighteen  months  after  Forster's  marriage,  ho  removed 
from  IJawdon  to  IJurley,  Wharfedale,  where  he  built  a 
comfortable  home,  called  Wharfeside,  on  the  bank  of  the 
AVharfe  River.  He  had  established  a  worsted  manufac- 
tory at  lUirley,  and  wished  to  be  near  his  mill. 

The  library,  commanding  a  lovely  view  of  the  river 
and  the  hills  of  heather,  was  the  most  attractive  room  in 
the  house  to  both  jNIr.  and  Mrs.  Forster.  Ijooks  were  on 
every  side.  Here  he  wrote  at  one  table,  and  his  wife  at 
the  other.  Here  noted  people  came,  drawn  thither  by 
the  cultivation  of  the  inmates. 

Seven  years  later,  four  orphan  children  came  into  the 
Forster  home  —  they  had  none  of  their  own  —  children 
of  William  Delafield  Arnold,  fourth  son  of  Dr.  Arnold, 
who,  after  being  educated  at  Rugby  and  Oxford,  and 
joining  the  Indian  army,  became  Direi-tor  of  l*ublic 
Instruction  in  the  Punjab. 

Mrs.  William  Arnold  died  in  India  in  the  spring  of 
1858,  and  her  husband  immediately  started  for  England, 
with  his  four  motherless  little  children.  l[e  died  on 
the  passage  at  Gibraltar,  at  the  early  age  of  thirty-one. 

Mr.  Matthew  Arnold,  in  "A  Southern  Night,"  thus 
beautifully  refers  to  the  death  of  tliese  two :  — 

"The  niurniur  of  this  midland  doep 
Is  heard  lo-iiIr'iiL  around  tliy  grave, 
There  where  GihralLar's  cannoned  steep 
O'erfrowns  the  wave. 


I  ; 


.>j» 


WILLIAM   EDWAIil)   FoliSTEIi. 


277 


I  i 


Ah  mo!  Gibraltar's  strand  is  far, 

IJut  farther  yet  acoss  the  brine 
Thy  th'iir  wifci's  ashes  burietl  are, 

lieiuoto  from  Ihine. 

For  there  where  morning's  sacred  fount 

Its  golden  rain  on  oarlh  confers, 
The  snowy  Himalayan  Mount 

O'ershadows  hers. 

•  ••••• 

I  think  of  her  whoso  gentle  tongue 
All  i)laint  in  hor  own  cause  controlled; 

Of  Lheo  I  tiiink,  my  brother,  young 
In  heart,  high-souled ; 

That  comely  face,  that  clustered  brow, 
That  cordial  hand,  that  bearing  free; 

I  see  them  still,  I  see  them  now, 
Shall  always  see. 

Mild  o'er  her  grave,  ye  mountains,  shine! 

Gently  by  his,  ye  waters,  glide! 
To  that  in  you  which  is  divine 

They  were  allied." 

Mr.  Forster  was  deeply  moved  by  this  death,  as  he  and 
"VVilliani  Arnold  had  been  close  friends.  "  There  was  a 
great  charm  and  great  nobility  in  my  brother  Willy's 
character,"  says  ^Irs.  Forster,  "  combined  with  remark- 
able energy  and  ardor,  and  something  of  youthful  vehe- 
mence. He  was  a  younger  nv  n  than  my  husband  by 
several  years  ;  but  their  characters  had  much  in  common, 
and  they  were  interested  in  each  other  from  the  first." 

"The  precious  cliildren,"  wrote  Forster  to  his  wife, 
after  hearing  of  her  brother's  death.  "  I  do  feel  as  much 
like  a  father  as  man  can.  ^Nlay  T  be  helped,  so  that  if  he 
can  look  down  upon  tl^'ui.  he  may  not  feel  that  his  trust 
in  me  has  been  misplaced." 


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278 


Tr/LL/.'liV  EDWAIil)  FOliSTJ^JR. 


Of  course  the  coming  of  four  cliildreu  to  Whiirfeside 
made  a  difference  in  the  liome.  Years  hiter  his  adopted 
daughter,  then  Mrs.  Robert  Vere  O'lirien,  wrote:  "A  bay 
window  was  tlirown  out  here,  a  room  was  built  on  there, 
an  additional  gable  introduced  in  another  ]»lace,  (nich 
new  addition  fitted  into  the  original  fabric  by  the  ing(,'n- 
ious  and  sympathetic  architect  who  had  built  the  house. 
.  .  .  The  bare  field  was  speedily  transformed  into  lawns, 
flower-beds,  and  shrubberies,  each  tree  in  which,  we  used 
to  maintain,  was  known  individually  and  personally  to 
my  father  and  mother,  so  deeply  attached  were  they  to 
these  trees  of  their  own  planting.  .  .  . 

"From  first  to  last  the  real  core  and  nucleus  of  Wharfe- 
side  was  the  library.  This  room  was  the  connecting 
link  between  my  father's  old  surroundings  and  his  new  ; 
for  its  exact  proportions  and  size,  the  low-raftered  ceil- 
ing, the  dark  mahogany  bookcases  that  lined  the  walls, 
were  copied  or  had  been  transported  bodily  from  his 
library  at  Rawdon,  and  the  heavy  red  velvet  curtains 
drawn  every  night  across  the  wide  window  that  filled  up 
nearly  the  whole  of  one  wall,  were  a  puichase  of  his 
bachelor  days  of  which  he  was  not  unreasonably  jn-oud 

'•This  library  was  the  room  of  the  house.  From  the 
first  it  was  in  the  library  that  my  mother's  sofa,  her 
writing-table,  her  flowers  and  books,  were  established ; 
and  this  room  was  the  scene  of  that  active  joint  life, 
that  perfect  companionship  in  all  their  plans,  occu})a- 
tions,  and  interests,  which  began  with  those  early  years 
of  quiet  work  at  Wharfeside. 

"  In  later  times  the  library  was  still  the  family-room, 
as  might  have  been  seen  by  the  various  tokens  of  femi- 
nine, not  to  say  juvenile,  occnipations  intruding  amongst 
the   pile   of    newspapers,    the    letters,    blue-books,    and 


ij 


WILL L I M  EI)  W.  I II J)   FOliS TEli. 


279 


and 


despatch-boxes,  wliich  iiiij^lit  well  have  claimed  a  monop- 
oly of  right  to  the  limited  space  available  in  the  small 
library,  now  the  workroom  ot"  a  busy  publi(;  man.  .  .  . 

"  Nor  would  even  the  dogs  and  tlie  Persian  eat  ever 
consent  to  forego  their  right  of  free  entry  to  this  favor- 
ite room  at  all  times  and  seasons, — a  right  which  was 
always  freely  admitted  by  their  master.  Often  have  I 
seen  him.  when  in  the  thick  of  preparing  for  some  impor- 
tant si)eech,  go  suddeidy  to  open  the  door  in  obedience 
to  the  summons  of  an  impatient  collie  dog  whining  for 
admittance.  Yarrow  would  then  shufHe  himself  across 
the  room  to  his  accnistomed  corner,  curl  himself  round, 
and  only  emerge  when  the  time  came  for  his  master  to 
break  off  a  long  morning's  work  to  take  a  short  stroll 
before  post-time,  and  on  these  occasions  Yarrow's 
company  was  always  indispensable." 

As  soon  as  the  new  mills  at  Burley  were  opened,  a 
large  room  was  set  apart  as  a  reading,  concert,  and  class- 
room for  the  oj^eratives.  It  was  opened  two  evenings  in 
the  week  for  men's  classes,  two  evenings  for  girls' 
classes,  and  two  evenings  for  music.  A  library  was  pro- 
vided, also  cooking  apparatus.  A  savings-bank  was 
established  for  the  work-people,  and  on  any  sums 
received,  from  sixpence  up  to  twenty-five  pounds,  ten 
per  cent  interest  was  given  up  to  five  pounds,  and  five 
l)er  cent  afterwards. 

Xo  wonder  that  Forster  was  called  "  the  working-men's 
friend."  He  knew  that  the  interest  of  an  employer 
ought  not  to  end  when  wages  are  paid.  He  felt  a 
moral  responsibility  that  his  operatives  should  have  the 
benefits  of  a  library,  and  a  place  of  recreation  other  than 
a  saloon.  AVould  that  all  employers  in  America  felt 
Uius ! 


y 


•280 


WILL tA  M  1:D  TIM  li T)   FOIiS TER. 


' 


He  presided  at  co-operative  meetings,  and  encouraged 
co-operative  production.  Wlieii  asked,  iu  connection 
witli  trade  unions,  ''Do  you  think  that  a  strike  has  ever 
either  raised  wages,  or  prevented  their  being  lowered  ?  " 
he  replied,  "No;  but  the  fear  of  a  strike  has." 

Mr.  Forster's  life  had  become  more  full  of  work  than 
cvtr.  He  was  made  chairman  of  the  Board  of  Guardians 
at  liradford.  He  wrote  letters  for  the  newspajjcrs  on 
economic  questions,  and  also  for  the  Westminster  and 
Edinburgh  Keviews,  on  such  topics  as  "Strikes  and 
Lockouts,"  "  The  Foreign  Policy  of  the  United  States," 
"Autocracy  of  the  Tsars,"  "Slavery,"  "  Th'  Lahsex- 
faire  Doctrine,"  which  he  heartily  ojiposed,  and  other 
subjects. 

In  October,  1853,  Forster's  father  had  gone  on  another 
mission  to  the  United  States.  He  travelled  in  AViscon- 
sin,  Louisiana,  Georgia,  and  Tennessee,  urging,  wherever 
it  was  possible,  through  the  governors  and  other  leading 
men,  if  they  could  not  at  once  abolish  slavery,  to  use  their 
efforts  to  make  the  system  as  free  from  evil  as  possible. 
His  kindness  and  earnestness  won  the  respect  of  those, 
even,  who  could  not  see  with  his  eyes,  or  feel  with  his 
Christian  heart. 

Early  in  18o4  he  was  seized  with  a  serious  illness  at 
a  small  wayside  house  not  far  from  Knoxville,  Tenn., 
and  there  he  died  January  27,  and  was  buried  among  the 
Friends  at  Friendsville.  Of  the  ten  brothers  and 
sisters  in  the  Forster  famih',  William  was  the  only  one 
who  had  a  child.  William  Edward  used  to  say  somewhat 
sadly,  "  I  am  the  last  of  my  name." 

The  shock  to  ^Mrs.  Forster  in  the  death  of  her  hus- 
band, so  far  away,  was  great.  She  survived  him  only  a 
year,  and  then  died,  as  she  could  have  wished,  peacefully 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FOIiSTER. 


281 


in  tire  arms  of  her  idolized  son.  She  did  nr)t  live  to  see 
liini  enter  riirliiuuent,  but  she  lived  to  see  him  honored 
and  successful. 

About  this  time  Forster  lost  also  the  friend  of  his 
youth,  J);irchiy  Fox.  <' The  dearest,  the  truest,  the 
most  loving  of  friends,"  he  said  ;  "such  a  friend  as  no 
nmn  could  expect  twice  in  his  life." 

In  the  general  election  of  18/>7  Forster  was  men- 
tioned by  several  constituencies  for  I'arliannnit.  At  New- 
castle, his  views  on  education  pro])al)ly  did  not  please 
the  Dissenters.  He  was  i)roposed  for  Bradford,  but, 
finding  that  he  would  imperil  the  chances  of  a  friend,  he 
retired  from  the  contest.  A  second  time  ho  was  pro- 
posed, and  failed  of  success.  He  stood  for  Leeds,  and 
was  defeated. 

Of  course  a  man  of  Forster's  ambition  was  disap- 
pointed. He  wrote  to  his  wife  on  his  birthday  in  18i")G, 
—  he  was  then  thirty-eight  years  old: — "This  birth- 
day nuikes  me  think  much ;  there  have  been  so  many  of 
them  before,  and  I  have  done  so  little.  The  world  is  so 
little,  if  at  all,  better  for  my  tarriance  in  it.  Would 
tlic'it  the  future  may  be  different  from  tlve  past.  It  ought 
to  be,  seeing  what  a  helper  I  have  in  thee.  ...  At  pres- 
ent I  seem  to  myself  very  much  to  fritter  away  both 
time  and  brain,  even  when  I  do  not  waste  them.  .  .  . 
W(dl,  I  wonder  what  the  near  future  has  in  store  for  ns. 
It  is  hard  to  think,  but  it  is  time  I  was  doing  more." 

Finally,  in  February,  18GI,  Mr.  Forster  was  elected  to 
the  House  of  Commons  for  Bradford.  Could  his  mother 
but  have  lived  six  years  longer,  to  see  this  da^  !  He 
had  longed  for  this  all  his  life,  and  the  honor  had  come 
at  forty-three,  on  the  retirement  of  Sir  Titus  Salt  ou 
account  of  ill  health. 


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282 


WILLIAM  EDWAIiD  FOItSTER, 


The  Civil  War  in  America  had  begun.  The  fact  that 
Forster's  father  had  died  and  was  buried  on  our  soil, 
deepened  an  interest  which  he  had  always  felt  in  our 
country.  He  had  written  to  an  American  friend,  IVIr. 
Ellis  Yarnall,  in  1856 :  "  This  Sumner  outrage  and  the 
Kansas  atrocities  have  actually  made  an  anti-slavery 
President  a  possibility,  which  neither  you  nor  I  could  a 
year  ago  have  imagined.  .  .  . 

"  The  Kansas  slave  quarrel  is  the  first  growl  of  thunder, 
but  the  storm  has  not  come  yet.  Compromise  —  with 
the  expectation  of  which  all  respectable,  elegant,  diplo- 
matic persons  are  pooh-poohing  the  whole  thing,  '  Oh,  of 
course  it  will  be  compromised  ! '  —  is,  in  my  eye,  utterly 
unlikely,  so  far  as  facts  look  just  now.  What  is  more, 
perhaps,  God  does  not  intend  it  to  be  compromised." 

Mr.  Forster's  first  speech  in  the  House,  brief,  and  to 
the  point,  bore  upon  the  possible  recognition  of  the 
Southern  Confederacy  by  English  officials  in  America. 
Three  months  later,  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Yarnall :  "  A  Mr. 
Gregory,  j\r.P.  for  Galway,  who  lately  travelled  in 
the  Soutli,  and  who  has  returned  well  humbugged  by  the 
Soutlierners,  insists  upon  proposing  in  the  House,  the 
absurd  but  mischievous  notion  that  we  should  promptly 
recognize  Jefferson  Davis's  Confederacy.  I  have  met 
his  notice  of  motion  with  corresponding  counter-notice, 
and  expected  the  debate  to  come  off  a  week  or  two  ago ; 
but  at  the  pressing  solicitation  of  the  Government  he 
put  it  off." 

When  Forster  opposed  the  motion  of  Gregory,  he  was 
called  to  order  from  the  Chair  on  account  of  his  eager- 
ness and  earnestness  of  manner. 

He  naturally  became  the  warm  friend  of  our  minis- 
ter,   Mr.   Charles    Francis    Adams.      Forster    lectured 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FOIiSTER. 


283 


before  the  Bradford  ]\Ieclianics'  Institute  on  the  Civil 
War  in  America,  and,  of  course,  took  the  side  of  Ihe 
Xorth. 

"  He  thought,"  says  the  report  of  tlie  lecture,  "  that, 
in  place  of  treating  the  struggle  with  a  cold  cynical 
indifference,  the  sympathies  of  Europe  ought  to  go 
wholly  with  the  North.  We  ought  to  make  allovvanci' 
for  them  in  a  time  of  so  much  calamity.  We  ought  to 
wish  them  success,  as  we  wished  success  to  freedom."' 

There  were  comparatively  few  prominent  Englishmen 
to  plead  our  cause,  except  the  never-to-be-forgotten  John 
Bright,  and  W^illiam  Edward  Forster. 

While  Forster  and  the  American  minister  and  his  wife 
were  the  guests  of  Lord  Hougliton,  a  telegram  came, 
announcing  tlie  seizure  of  the  Confederate  envoys.  Mason 
and  Slidell,  on  board  an  English  vessel.  At  once  Eng- 
land, with  her  strong  Southern  sympathy,  was  greatly 
agitated. 

Mr.  Forster  took  his  first  opportunity  to  address  the 
Bradford  electors  on  the  subject,  and  then  hastened  to 
London.     He  wrote  his  wife  :  — 

"  I  have  been  busy  talking  all  day,  and  trust  I  have 
thrown  some  oil  on  the  troubled  waters,  but  struggling 
for  peace  is  like  the  struggles  of  a  drowning  man.  .  .  . 
On  tlie  whole,  though  both  sides  expect  war,  I  am  hope- 
ful. I  trust  I  have  done  something  to  combat  the  fore- 
gone conclusion  that  Seward  wishes  war." 

He  urged  in  his  public  speeches,  that  if  Mr.  Lincoln's 
Government  refused  to  liberate  Mason  and  Slidell,  tlie 
English  should  propose  arbitration  before  engaging  in 
war.  The  Times  criticised  him  severely  for  what  it  re- 
jjarded  as  an  absurd  proposition. 

Mr.  Forster  continued  to  argue  for  the  North  in  the 


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284 


WILLIAM  ED  WARD  FOliSTER. 


House  of  Commons.  At  one  time  there  was  an  attempt 
to  recognize  the  Confederacy ;  then  a  refusal  to  recognize 
the  blockade  proclaimed  by  the  Nortli,  on  the  Southern 
seaboard ;  then  a  suggestion  of  mediation,  wliich,  of 
course,  the  North  would  resent. 

Forster  early  foretold  the  danger  of  allowing  Con- 
federate cruisers  to  be  built,  and  the  results  which  would 
surely  follow.  Cobden,  a  friend  to  the  Xorth,  wrote 
Forster  concerning  the  Alabama  and  other  vessels  :  "  The 
course  Palmerston  has  taken  will  involve  England  in 
a  war  or  a  great  humiliation.  Every  word  of  his  in- 
sulting taunts  and  puerile  recriminations  in  the  above 
matter  will  be  burnt  as  with  hot  iron  into  the  memories 
of  the  Americans,  who  have  a  special  dislike  for  the 


man 


J) 


The  history  of  these  cruisers  may  be  given  in  the  lan- 
guage of  one  of  Great  Britain's  able  authors,  Justin 
McCarthy.  "  The  first  privateer  which  became  really 
formidable  to  the  shipping  of  the  North  was  a  vessel 
called  in  her  earlier  history  the  Orbeto,  but  afterwards 
better  known  as  the  Florida.  Within  three  months, 
she  had  captured  fifteen  vessels.  Thirteen  of  these  she 
burnt,  and  the  other  two  were  converted  into  cruisers  by 
the  Confederate  Government 

''  Only  seven  Confederate  privateers  were  really  formi- 
dable to  the  United  States,  and  of  these  five  were  built 
in  British  dockyards.  We  are  not  including  in  the  list 
any  of  the  actual  war-vessels  —  the  rams  and  iron-clads  — 
that  British  energy  was  preparing  for  the  Confederate 
Government.  We  are  now  speaking  merely  of  the 
privateers. 

"  Of  these  privateers,  the  most  famous  by  far  was  the 
Alabama.  .  .  .  The   Alabama    was   built   expressly   for 


WILLIAM  EDWARD   FORSTER. 


285 


the  Cunfedei'iite  service,  in  one  of  tlie  dockyards  of  the 
^Mersey.  She  was  built  by  tlie  House  of  Laird,  a  firm  of 
the  greatest  reputation  in  the  ship-buihling  trade,  and 
whose  former  head  was  the  representative  of  Birkenhead 
in  the  House  of  Commons.  While  in  process  of  con- 
struction she  was  called  the  '  290 ; '  and  it  was  not  until 
she  had  put  to  sea,  and  hoisted  the  Confederate  flag,  and 
Captain  Semmes,  formerly  commander  of  the  Sumter, 
had  appeared  on  her  deck  in  full  Confederate  uniform, 
that  she  took  the  name  of  the  Alabama. 

''  During  her  career  the  Alabama  captured  nearly 
seventy  Northern  vessels.  Her  plan  was  always  the 
same.  She  hoisted  the  British  flag,  and  thus  decoyed 
her  intended  victims  within  her  reach ;  then  she  dis- 
played the  Confederate  colors,  and  captured  the  prize. 
Unless  when  there  was  some  particular  motive  for  mak- 
ing use  of  the  captured  vessels,  they  were  burnt.  Some 
American  ca})tain  saw  far  off  in  the  night,  the  flames  of 
a  burning  vessel  reddening  the  sea.  He  steered  to  her 
aid ;  and  when  he  came  near  enough,  the  Alabama, 
which  was  yet  in  the  same  waters,  and  had  watched  his 
coming,  fired  her  shot  across  his  bows,  hung  out  her  flag, 
and  made  him  her  prisoner.  .  .  . 

"But  the  Alabama  did  not  do  much  fighting;  she 
preyed  on  merchant  vessels  that  could  not  fight.  She 
attacked  where  instant  surrender  must  be  the  reply  to 
her  summons.  Only  twice,  so  far  as  we  know,  did  she 
engage  in  a  fight.  The  first  time  was  with  the  Hatteras, 
a  small  blockading  ship,  whose  broadside  was  so  unequal 
to  that  of  the  Alabama,  that  she  was  sunk  in  a  quarter 
of  an  hour. 

"  The  second  time  was  with  the  United  States  ship-of- 
war,  Kearsargo,  whoso  size  and  armament  were   about 


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286 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FOIiSTER. 


equal  to  lier  own.  The  figlit  took  place  off  the  French 
shore,  near  Cherbourg,  and  the  career  of  the  Alabama 
was  finished  in  an  hour.  The  Confederate  rover  was 
utterly  shattered,  and  went  down.  Captain  Sennnos 
was  saved  by  an  English  steam-yacht,  and  brought  to 
England  to  be  made  a  hero  for  a  while  and  tlien  for- 
gotten.  The  cruise  of  the  Alabama  had  lasted  nearly 
two  years.  During  this  time  ihe  had  contrived  to  drive 
American  commerce  from  the  seas." 

The  United  States  complained,  says  IMcCarthy,  "  that 
the  Alabama  was  practically  an  English  vessel.  She 
was  built  by  English  builders,  in  an  English  dockyard  ; 
she  was  manned,  for  the  most  part,  by  an  English  crew  ; 
her  guns  were  English  ;  her  gunners  were  English  ;  many 
of  the  latter  belonged  to  the  Eoyal  Naval  Reserve,  and 
were  actually  receiving  pay  from  the  English  Govern- 
ment; she  sailed  under  the  English  flag,  was  welcomed 
in  English  harbors,  and  never  was  in,  or  even  saw,  a 
Confederate  port.  As  Mr.  Forster  put  it  very  clearl}^ 
and  tersely,  she  was  built  by  British  ship-builders,  and 
manned  by  a  British  crew ;  she  drew  prizes  to  destruc- 
tion under  a  British  flag,  and  was  paid  for  by  money 
borrowed  from  British  capitalists." 

In  consequence  of  these  things,  which,  Cobden  wrote 
Forster,  "would  be  burnt  as  with  hot  iron  into  the  mem- 
ories of  the  Americans,"  the  two  countries  seemed  for 
years  on  the  verge  of  war. 

In  1869  Mr.  Beverdy  Johnson,  Minister  to  England, 
attempted  to  negotiate  a  treaty  with  England  on  the 
Alabama  matters.  The  treaty  offered  was  violently  op- 
posed by  the  American  Senate,  Charles  Sumner  making 
a  very  able  and  severe  attack  upon  it.  His  speech 
aroused  strong  feeling  on  both  sides  of  the  ocean.     Mr. 


WILLIAM  EI)  WAR  J)  FORSTER. 


287 


and 


a 


land, 
311  the 
tly  op- 

aking 
speech 
I.    Mr. 


Forster  responded  to  Sumner's  speech,  and  sent  the 
response  to  liini,  as  they  had  been  friends  years  before. 

Sumner  wrote  back  :  "  If  other  English  utterances  were 
in  the  same  tone,  the  differences  between  the  two  (,'oun- 
tries  would  be  much  nearer  a  settlement  than  1  fear  they 
are.  ...  I  have  always  had  a  deep  sense  of  our  wrongs 
from  England,  —  to  my  mind,  the  most  terrible  ever 
offered  by  one  friendly  power  to  another.  .  .  .  Such  was 
my  love  of  peace  —  especially  with  England  — that,  when 
our  troubles  were  over,  1  said  nothing,  hoping  for  a  set- 
tlement. Never  in  the  Senate,  or  elsewhere,  did  I  utter 
a  word.  At  last,  the  treaty  was  negotiated.  As  I  think 
of  it  now,  there  was  madness  in  tliat  negotiation.  .  .  . 
When  it  was  determined  to  reject  the  treaty,  it  became 
my  duty  to  assign  the  reasons." 

In  1871  Lord  llipon  and  Sir  Stafford  Xorthcote  were 
sent  to  Washington  for  the  pur})Ose  of  concluding  a  fresh 
treaty.  It  was  finally  agreed  to  refer  the  matter  in 
dispute  to  a  High  Court  of  International  Arbitrators. 

The  following  year,  1872,  by  the  Geneva  Tribunal, 
England  agreed  to  pay  to  America  about  three  and  a 
(piarter  millions  sterling,  as  damages  on  account  of  the 
Alabama  and  other  vessels  employed  by  the  Confederate 
States.     Thus,  fortunately,  a  dreadful  war  was  avoided. 

When  ralmerston  died  in  1805,  and  Lord  Eussell  be- 
came Premier,  Forster  accepted  a  place  in  the  Ministry 
as  Under  Colonial  Secretary.  After  a  few  months  Lord 
Derby  came  into  power,  and  Forster  was  again  free  to 
work  for  the  great  Reform  Bill  of  18G7,  the  extension 
of  the  suffrage.  Like  Bright,  he  spoke  at  immense 
02)en-air  meetings,  and  in   the  town  halls. 

"  He  held  up,"  says  i\Ir.  Keid,  "  before  those  whom 
he  addressed,  the  American  Constitution,  with  its  free- 


i''*! 


«-4 


I 

ill 

i 


288 


WILLIAM  EDWAIW  FOliSTER. 


i  nil 


I 


< 


dom  and  its  broad  foundation,  as  an  example  of  what 
might  be  accomplished  if  the  leaders  of  the  nation  were 
willing  to  give  the  fullest  possible  extension  of  its  lib- 
erties ;  '  and  yet  further/  he  added,  *  it  is  in  our  power 
to  outstrip  America  in  the  race.  .  .  .  Whatever  nuiy  bo 
our  advantages,  whatever  may  be  the  disadvantages  of 
America,  America  will  beat  us  in  the  race  for  freedom, 
if,  for  much  longer,  millions  of  Englishmen  are  forced 
to  feel  themselves  deprived  of  their  citizenship.' " 

Forster  favored  household  suffrage,  i)ure  and  simple, 
and  this  was  finally  won  from  the  Tory  Government 
under  Disraeli. 

During  the  autumn  of  1867,  IMr.  Forster  passed  his 
usual  holiday  in  a  visit  down  the  Danube  to  Constanti- 
nople and  Asia  Minor.  He  did  not  forget  to  write  a 
letter  to  his  darling  Flo  and  Francis,  "  to  race  with  one 
to  mother.  Yours  will  go  up  the  Adriatic  to  Trieste, 
and  then  over  the  Alps.  Mother's  will  go  across  the 
Mediterranean  to  Marseilles." 

j\Ir.  Forster  was  nearing  the  time  when  lie  should 
obtain  for  England  that  for  which  his  name  will  be  for- 
ever remembered  and  honored,  —  National  Elementary 
Education,  through  the  Education  Act  of  1870. 

He  had  been  deeply  interested  in  the  subject  for 
years.  As  he  believed  that  suffrage  should  be  universal, 
so  he  believed  and  knew  that  those  who  voted  ought  to  be 
able  through  education  to  vote  intelligently.  Like  Lord 
Shaftesbury,  he  had  investigated  the  ignorance  among 
factory  children.  Like  Henry  Fawcett,  he  knew  the 
deplorable  ignorance  among  the  children  of  the  agri- 
cultural population,  and  among  the  working-classes 
generally.  Fawcett  tells  of  a  village  where  not  a  single 
youth  could  be  found  who  could  read  a  newspaper  well 
enough  to  enjoy  it, 


WILLIAM  EDWAJiD  FORSTER. 


289 


rliat 
vere 

ty  be 
es  of 
'dom, 
orced 

jnple, 
Limeut 

ed  liis 
istanti- 
yrite  a 
Lth  one 
frieste, 
loss  tlie 

should 

be  for- 

[nentavy 

iect  for 
[liversal, 
|rht  to  \)e 
ike  liord 
among 
liiew  the 
jlie  agri- 
(T-classes 

I  o 

a  single 
liper  well 


i 


England  was  far  behind  Germany  and  America  in  her 
education  for  tlie  people.  True,  her  colleges  like  Oxford 
and  Cambridge,  and  her  great  schools  like  Eton  and 
Rugby,  were  an  honor  to  her;  but  these  were  not  for  the 
poor. 

"  t  p  to  1839,"  says  Matthew  Arnold,  "  a  large  part  of 
the  population  owed  to  the  Sunday-schools  not  only 
their  religious  instruction,  but  their  power,  whatever  it 
was,  to  write  and  read."  (Robert  Raikes  had  established 
the  first  Sunday-school  in  1782.)  "  The  promoters  of  the 
Sunday-school,  having  seized  the  fruitful  idea,  that  the 
school  is  an  inseparable  element  of  the  organization  of  a 
Christian  congregation,  were  naturally  led  to  give  more 
extension  to  this  idea,  and  to  institute  the  day-school. 

"  In  the  early  years  of  the  present  century,  the  Na- 
tional Society  and  the  British  and  Foreign  School 
Society  were  founded,  in  order  by  association  to  ob- 
tain the  means  of  better  reaching  the  end  in  view.  The 
National  Society  was  to  promote  schools  in  connection 
with  the  Church  of  England,  and  in  which  the  cate- 
chism and  doctrines  of  that  Church  were  taught  ;  the 
British  and  Foreign  School  Society  was  to  offer  to  all 
Protestant  congregations  a  common  school,  where  the 
Bible  was  read  but  no  catechism  admitted." 

Of  course  some  of  these  schools  were  excellent,  but 
voluntary  effort  could  not,  or  did  not,  supply  the  needs 
of  the  people.  The  children  of  the  poor  went  early  into 
the  shop  or  the  field,  because  the  pittance  which  they 
earned  was  useful  to  the  family. 

A  Statistical  Report  on  Education,  in  1834,  said, 
"One-half  of  the  schools  are  so-called  'dame-schools,' 
the  greater  part  kept  by  females,  but  some  by  old  men, 
whose  only  qualification  for  this  employment  seems  to 


ri-i 


m 


i  m 


290 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FOIlSTEIi. 


I  I 


be  their  unfitness  for  every  other.  These  schools  are 
generally  found  in  very  dirty,  unwholesome  rooms,  fre- 
quently in  close,  damp  cellars,  or  old  dilapidated  gar- 
rets. In  by  far  the  greater  number  there  are  only  two 
or  three  books  amongst  the  whole  number  of  scholars. 
The  terms  v.';ry  from  twopence  to  sevenpence  per  week, 
averaging  foiirpence." 

The  prison  reports  of  1838  showed  that  only  nine  out 
of  one  hundred  convicts  could  read  and  write. 

Commissions  of  Inquiry  were  appointed  by  the  House 
from  time  to  time,  to  report  upon  the  condition  of  edu- 
cation, and  the  needs.  One  of  these  began  its  sittings 
in  1858.  "  The  accounts  which  this  Commission  re- 
ceived of  private  schools,"  says  Henr}-  Craik,  LL.I).,  in 
his  "  State  and  Education,"  "  are  not  without  something 
of  dramatic  pathos,  pitiful  as  they  are.  In  one  we  read : 
'It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  poverty  and  decay  which 
everything  indicated.  .  .  .  The  chief  text-book  seemed 
to  be  a  kitten,  to  which  all  the  children  were  very  atten- 
tive.' In  another  the  teacher, '  a  young  man,  very  pale  and 
sickly  in  a})pearance,'  worked  as  a  carpenter  chirlng  the 
school  hours  ;  'he  expressed  a  strong  wish  to  have  an  arith- 
metic-book and  a  grammar  for  his  own  improvement.' 

"  In  another,  a  widow  seventy  years  of  age,  eked  out 
by  her  school  the  i)ittance  granted  by  the  Union.  Her 
total  income  was  3s.  9d.  a  w^eek.  '  She  complained  of 
inability  to  buy  meat,  and  without  meat  her  strength 
fails.'  No  wonder  that  '  she  is  very  weary  of  life,  and 
hopes  that  her  time  on  earth  wdll  not  be  long.' 

'•'  The  reports  of  the  Assistant  Commissioners  all  tell 
the  same  story.  The  teachers  were  untrained,  unedu- 
cated, recruited  only  from  the  ranks  of  those  who  had 
failed  in  other  paths  of  life.     Discharged  servants,  out- 


WILLI  A  M  ED  \VA  U  I)   FOR  S  TKli. 


201 


►Is  are 
IS,  fre- 
d  gar- 
ly  two 
hoLirs. 
•  wt'ek, 

int  out 

House 
of  edu- 
sittings 
ion    re- 
L.D.,  in 
uetliing 
'e  read: 
y  which 
I  seemed 
atten- 
:)ale  and 
iifj  the 
arith- 
lent.' 
ed  out 
Hel- 
med of 
rength 
ife,  and 

all  tell 
unedu- 
vho  had 
nts,  out- 


m 


door  paupers,  cripples,  and  consumptive  patients,  tliose 
weak  with  the  decrepitude  of  age,  —  to  these  and  such 
as  these,  dragging  on  a  miserable  and  hopeless  exist- 
ence of  the  hardest  drudgery,  the  education  of  nearly 
a  third  of  the  children  of  the  country  was  intrusted. 
In  the  face  of  such  a  revelation  there  could  scarcely  be 
two  opinions  as  to  the  urgent  need  of  action." 

Dr.  Craik  gives  the  following,  among  several  answers 
made  by  children  in  an  inspected  school,  in  1855,  to  the 
question,  "  What  is  thy  duty  towards  God  ?  "  to  show 
liow  poor  and  superficial  the  education  was,  the  child 
getting  the  sound  without  the  meaning : 

"  j\Iy  duty  toads  God  is  to  bleed  in  Him  to  fering 
and  to  loaf  withold  your  arts,  withold  my  mine,  with- 
old  my  sold,  and  with  my  sernth,  to  whirchp  and  give 
thanks,  to  put  my  old  trash  in  Him,  to  call  upon  Him, 
to  onner  His  old  name  and  His  world,  and  to  save  Him 
truly  all  the  days  of  my  life's  end." 

In  the  year  18G4  Mr.  Forster  was  appointed  a 
member  of  the  Schools  Inquiry  Commission,  for  ascer- 
taining the  condition  of  middle-class  education,  the 
endowed  or  grammar  schools  not  being  under  Govern- 
ment inspection.  For  three  years  Forster  gave  himself 
enthusiastically  to  this  work. 

When  Gladstone  became  Prime  Minister,  after  the  de- 
feat of  Mr.  Disraeli  in  1868,  Forster  was  made  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Privy  Council,  and  Minister  of  Education, 
and  in  1870  a  member  of  the  Cabinet. 

He  realized  better  than  most  of  his  associates  the 
great  need  of  the  work  he  had  in  hand. 

Francis  Peek  says  in  the  "  Contemporary  Review  "  for 
August,  1879,  showing  the  condition  of  schools  in  1870 : 
"Voluntary  effort  had  provided   11,000  day  and  2,000 


,1!^ 


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Uk 


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if  if 


II  j 


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292 


WILLIAM  EDWAUD  FORSTER. 


night  schools.  The  number  of  chihlron  upon  tlie  regis- 
ters was  1,450,000,  with  .an  average  atten(Uince  of  about 
1,000,000 ;  so  that,  even  in  these  schools,  the  education 
could  be  but  very  imperfect,  owing  to  the  irregularity 
of  the  attendance.  Thus  only  two-iifths  of  the  childrei\ 
between  the  ages  of  six  and  ten,  and  only  one-third  of 
those  between  ten  and  twelve,  were  receiving  even  this 
insufficient  amount  of  education,  and  although  numy 
others  may  have  been  receiving  some  sort  of  instruction 
from  other  sources,  yet  as  the  educational  standard, 
even  in  the  inspected  schools,  was  so  very  low,  it  may 
be  conceded  that  in  those  uninspected  it  was  almost 
worthless.  ... 

"  Regarding  the  quality  of  the  instruction  given  in 
the  inspected  schools,  one  of  the  Government  Ins})ectors, 
referring  to  th3  sixth  standard,  which  recpiired  that  the 
pupil  should  be  able  to  read  an  ordinary  newspa])er 
with  fluency,  write  the  same  from  dictation,  and  do 
sums  in  bills-of-parcels,  stated  that  in  Birmingham  and 
Leeds,  with  a  population  of  000,000,  only  530  pupils 
succeeded  in  ])assing  it." 

Forster  was  deeply  moved  by  this  condition  of  things. 
"  He  saw  at  Bradford,  at  Leeds,  and  in  London,"  says 
Mr.  Reid,  "  hosts  of  little  children  whom  he  knew  to  bo 
growing  up  in  a  real  and  terrible  heathendom,  llii 
would  sometimes  stop  these  children  in  the  street,  ques- 
tion them  closely  as  to  how  they  lived,  Avhat  they  knew, 
and  to  what  they  were  looking  in  future  life ;  and  he 
would  turn  away  from  them  with  wet  eyes,  and  a 
heart  that  was  wrung  with  pity  for  a  lot  so  hoi)cless. 

"  Let  each  of  us,"  he  said,  in  the  peroration  of  his 
speech,  when  introducing  his  bill,  "  think  of  our  own 
homes,  of  the  villages  in  which  we  have  to  live,  of  the 


I 


I 


■4 


I 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FOli.^lJ'm. 


^03 


»f  about 
lucation 
gularity 
cthildrt'P 
third  of 
veil  tliis 
;li   many 
;tnietic)ii 
itaiidavd, 
',  it  may 
s  almost 

given  in 
ispcctors, 
that  the 
ewspaper 
and  do 
ham  and 
50  pupils 

-)f  things, 
on,"  says 

lew  to  he 
Lorn,      lit' 

!et,  ques- 

ey  knew, 
and  he 

s,   and   a 

)eless. 

m  of  his 
our  own 

'■6,  of  the 


i 


towns  in  which  it  is  our  lot  to  be  busy;  and  do  we  not 
know  child  after  child  —  boys  or  girls  —  growing  up  to 
prokible  crime,  to  still  more  probable  misery,  because 
badly  taught  or  utterly  untaught  ?  Dare  we,  then, 
take  on  ourselves  the  responsibility  of  allowing  this 
ignorance  and  this  weakness  to  continue  one  year  longer 
than  we  can  help  ?  " 

The  Education  Bill  of  1870,  after  great  care  in  its 
preparation,  was  read  for  the  first  time  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  February  17.  Mr.  Forster  began  his  speech 
at  5.45,  and  spoke  for  one  hour  and  forty  minutes, 
holding  close  attention. 

By  this  bill  the  country  was  to  be  divided  into  school 
districts.  Every  district  was  to  be  examined  to  see  what 
was  needed  beyond  what  the  voluntary  schools  were 
already  doing.  School  boards  were  to  be  elected  by 
those  who  paid  rates  in  the  district;  and  these  boards 
were  to  supply  all  deficiencies  of  education.  Tliey  had 
power  to  build  schoolhouses,  borrowing  the  money  from 
the  Government ;  to  levy  a  rate  over  the  whole  district 
to  procure  funds,  and  to  charge  fees  to  parents.  Both 
board  and  voluntary  schools  were  to  obtain  grants  from 
the  Government  according  to  the  excellence  of  instruc- 
lion,  tested  by  results  in  the  pupils.  Each  board  was  to 
decide  for  itself  whether  the  teaching  should  be  wholly 
secular,  or  whether  religious  instruction  should  be  given. 

The  bill  met  with  the  most  heated  opposition.  The 
non-conformists,  notably  the  Birmingham  League,  wished 
not  only  for  free  but  for  secular  public  schools,  as  in  the 
United  States  ;  not  because  they  did  not  believe  heartily 
in  religion,  but  because  tliey  did  not  think  the  Church 
of  England  or  other  denominational  schools  should  be 
assisted  by  the  State.     They  believed  with  the  able  and 


1 


1 

mm 


294 


]VIL  L I A  .U   /•;  hWAHI)   FO II  s  TEIi. 


•i    '      Hi 


>)    il 


5    !         Ii. 


M 


scholarly  Rev.    11.  W.  Dale,  who  said  not  long  ago  in 
the  Nineteenth  Centitri/ : 

"  Let  the  secular  education  of  the  people  be  provided 
by  secular  authorities  ;  and  let  the  churches,  by  whatever 
arrangements  seem  expedient  to  them,  jirovide  for  ndi- 
gious  education  at  their  own  cost,  and  out  of  school  hours. 
This  is  the  true  solution  of  the  problem,  and  the  sooner  it 
is  frankly  accepted,  the  better  it  will  be  for  the  interests 
both  of  English  education,  and  of  English  Christianity." 

Forster  had  said  expressly  that  he  did  not  wish  "  to 
destroy  anything  in  the  existing  system  which  wao  good, 
if  they  could  avoid  it." 

The  battle  raged  so  furiously  about  the  religious  ques- 
tion, that  Forster  was  glad,  at  last,  to  avail  himself  of  the 
help  of  the  Conservatives  to  carry  his  bill.  It  received 
the  royal  assent,  August  9,  1870. 

Mr.  Forster  was  strongly  in  favor  of  Bible  teaching  in 
the  schools.  He  had  not  been  at  first,  it  was  said,  but 
had  been  led  to  it  especially  by  the  remark  of  Canon 
Jackson  that  "  it  appeared  that  the  one  book  in  the  Eng- 
lish language  which  was  to  be  excluded  by  Act  of  Tar- 
liament  from  the  schools,  was  the  Bible." 

Finally,  the  Cowper-Temple  clause,  or  time-table  con- 
science clause,  was  adopted;  by  which  "all  catechisms 
and  distinctive  dogmatic  formularies  are  excluded  from 
rate-supported  schools."  All  religious  teaching,  if  giv^en, 
is  given  before  or  after  the  regular  school  work. 

Personally  Forster  favored  comi)ulsory  education  ;  but 
yielded  his  views  to  please  some  members  of  the  Cabinet. 
This  was  obtained  by  Mr.  ^Vlundella,  in  1880.  Forster's 
aim,  as  he  wrote  in  his  diary,  was:  "1.  To  cover  the 
country  wMth  good  schools.  2.  To  get  the  parents  to 
send  their  children  to  school." 


I  II 


ago  in 

rovidoci 
liatever 
for  rcli- 
»1  hours, 
ooiier  it 
uterests 
;ianity." 
ish  "to 
ao  good, 

us  ques- 
If  of  the 
received 

ichiug  in 

said,  but 

f  Canon 

the  Eng- 

of  Tar- 

ible  con- 
techisms 
led  from 
if  given, 

ion  ;  but 
Cabinet. 
Forster's 
over  the 
irents  to 


WILLIAM  EDWARD   FORSTER. 


2or> 


That  the  results  of  the  bill  have  been  grent,  no  one 
will  deny.  In  1870  the  average  school  attendance  was 
a  little  over  a  million  scholars  (l,ir)2,.'i(SU) ;  in  l.SSG  it  was 
nearly  three  and  a  half  million  (.'>.4.')S,4'jr))  ;  "  tlie  i)er- 
centage  of  the  scholars  examined,  to  the  cstimati'd  popu- 
lation of  the  country,  had  risen  from  2..SG  in  1870  to  8.77 
in  1880,"  says  Mr.  Reid,  "and  the  number  of  school- 
l)oards  estimated  in  the  latter  year  was  2,225.  All  this 
was  achieved  in  Forster's  lifetime." 

J.  G.  Fitch,  LL.I).,  in  his  concise  and  comprolion- 
sive  "  Notes  on  American  Schools,"  says,  tliat  in  1886 
Great  IJritain  spent  for  her  elementary  schools  alone 
$35,000,000  ;  .$17,000,000  of  this  came  from  the  imperial 
exchequer,  $8,500,000  from  fees  of  par(3nts,  $;},500,0()0 
from  voluntary  subscriptions,  $6,000,000  from  local 
rates,  etc. 

Dr.  Fitch  says:  "The  one  great  safeguard  for  the 
continued  and  rapid  improvement  of  education  in  Amer- 
ica, is  the  universal  interest  shown  in  it  by  the  commu- 
nity. There  is  no  matter  of  public  concern  more  keenly 
and  frequently  debated.  A  complaint  of  negligence  or 
inefficiency,  in  connection  with  the  schools,  arouses  the 
indignation  of  parents,  and  excites  general  discussion. 
There  is  everywhere  manifest  an  eager,  almost  a  rest- 
less, desire  to  effect  improvements  and  to  try  new  experi- 
ments." 

Since  the  Education  Act  of  1870,  England  seems  more 
and  more  to  have  shown  the  same  "  universal  interest " 
in  the  education  of  her  people.  Some  of  her  noblest 
men  and  women  are  giving  themselves  to  the  work.  And 
the  end  is  not  yet. 

After  the  close  of  Parliament,  in  the  fall  of  1870, 
Forster  went  to  Balmoral  Castle,  as  minister  in  attend- 


if-  ^ 


I 


'I 


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I 

\  1   , 


n-  ]i: 


?^!  'i      !!• 


Il'll 


^Ji 


it 


J'C-4 


296 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FORSTER. 


ance  on  the  Queen.  He  became  most  deeply  attached 
to  his  sovereign,  and  the  Queen  appreciated  his  loyalty, 
and  desire  to  serve  her. 

He  wrote  to  his  wife  :  "  During  dinner,  the  Queen  gave 
me,  in  a  black  envelope,  a  photograph  of  the  Crown 
Prince  of  Prussia,  telling  me  it  was  his  thirty-ninth  birth- 
day. When  we  went  to  Lochnagar,  I  tried,  through  one 
of  the  gillies,  to  get  a  collie.  This  has  reached  the 
Queen  j  and  Lady  Ely  tells  me,  she  is  going  to  give  me 
a  collie  if  she  can  find  one.  After  dinner  she  favored 
me  with  a  long  talk;  and  somehow,  I  do  not  know  how, 
I  told  her  about  the  children,  which  interested  her.  I 
told  her,  too,  about  my  father  and  mother,  and  altogether 
she  was  most  pleasant  and  kind." 

Surely  that  ^ather  and  mother  would  have  been  proud 
to  have  seen  their  son,  after  all  the  struggles  of  youth, 
risen  out  of  his  poverty  to  his  present  position  of  honor 
and  trust. 

Dr.  Norman  Macleod  says  in  his  diary :  "  I  preached 
at  Balmoral.  .  .  .  When  last  at  Balmoral,  I  met  Forster, 
the  Cabinet  IMinister,  there.  He  and  Helps  and  I  had 
great  arguments  on  all  theological  subjects,  till  very  late. 
I  never  was  more  impressed  by  any  man  as  d^ep,  inde- 
pendent, thoroughly  honest,  and  sincere.  I  conceived  a 
great  love  for  him.  I  never  met  a  statesman,  whom,  for 
high-minded  honesty  and  justice,  I  would  sooner  follow. 
He  will  be  Premier  some  day." 

Again  Forster  wrote  to  his  wife:  "I  am  soon  off  on  a 
real  mountain  walk,  with  Collins,  Prince  Leopold's  tutor, 
and  an  active  climber,  having  refused  to  go  out  deer- 
shooting," 

Forster  was  so  opposed  to  killing  anything  for  sport, 
that  he  would  never  tish  nor  shoot.     He  had  all  the  ten- 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FORSTER. 


297 


ill 


on  a 

tutor, 

deer- 


derness  of  his  mother  for  the  animal  creation.  He  was 
enabled,  while  in  Parliament,  to  make  better  provision 
for  cattle  in  t-ansit  by  railway.  "  The  Vivisection  Bill, 
too,"  says  Mr.  Reid,  "  engaged  a  good  deal  of  his  time 
and  attention  ;  and  he  congratulated  liimself  in  his  diary, 
upon  having  got  the  House  to  put  the  frogs  back  under 
the  protection  of  the  measure,  the  Home  Secretary  hav- 
intj:  asrreed  to  exclude  them." 

He  had  no  sympathy  with  the  cruelty  often  practised 
in  the  professed  interest  of  science.  He  said :  *•  Vivi- 
section may,  in  some  most  rare  cases,  be  useful  for  the 
prolongation  of  life,  and  removal  of  suffering  of  man  and 
beast ;  it  is,  therefore,  allowable  when  very  rarely  prac- 
tised by  real  discoverers.  But  it  is  not  allowable  even 
for  them,  except  with  every  possible  alleviation  of  pain, 
and  ought  to  be  absolutely  forbidden  by  learners  and 
general  practitioners." 

On  February  20,  1871,  Mr.  Forster  introduced  the  Bal- 
lot Bill,  on  secret  voting.  The  objection  to  the  open  vote 
was  that  men  were  often  afraid  of  landlord,  or  wealthy 
customer,  or  employer.  The  measure  was  fought  over 
for  twenty-seven  nights,  —  longer  than  the  debate  over 
the  Education  Act.  It  was  defeated  in  the  House  of 
Lords. 

Again  Forster  introduced  the  bill  in  1872,  and  after 
twenty -three  nights  of  debate,  it  was  sent  to  tlie  House  of 
Lords,  and  received  the  royal  assent  on  July  18. 

When  the  GLadstone  ministry  was  defeated,  and 
Disraeli  again  came  to  power  in  1874,  though  Fors- 
ter was  returned  to  Parliament  after  a  bitter  contest,  he 
of  course  lost  his  position  in  the  Cabinet.  He  was  then 
a  rich  man.  He  had  purchased,  tlie  previous  year,  a  home 
between   the    Lakes    Grasmere   and  Windermere,  Fox 


I'll '  I 


'    -i| 


I-  ' 


^iil 


I  s: 


III  ■■      |: 


' 


I  I 

'  t     i 


lii!'  ^  'I! 


ill 


! 


(   I! 

( 

I? 
'    •   J 


II'    ': 


i 


!it 


I  ly . 


298 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FORSTER. 


Ghyll,  at  Ambleside,  close  to  Fox  How,  the  residence 
of  his  wife's  mother,  ]Mrs.  Arnold.  In  this  delightful 
scenery,  he  spent  the  spring  and  summer  of  1874  with 
his  family,  and  in  the  autumn  came  to  America  with  his 
cousin  Sir  Tliomas  Fowell  Buxton,  grandson  of  the  first 
baronet.  The}-  were,  of  course,  entertained  in  New  York. 
The  Union  League  Club  gave  him  a  reception  "  in  recog- 
nition of  his  distinguished  service  and  friendship  for 
the  Government  during  the  war."  Among  the  callers 
upon  him,  Forster  wrote  his  wife,  was  "  jNIr.  Cooper,  a 
very  generous  millionnaire,  eighty-four  years  old,  active 
and  shrewd,  the  founder  of  the  Cooper  Institute." 

They  went  to  Springfield,  111.,  to  see  the  statue  of 
Lincoln  unveiled  by  President  Grant.  "  Here  I  was  in- 
troduced," wrote  Forster,  "  to  several  West  Point  gen- 
erals, iNLacDowell  and  Pope,  who  commanded  large  armies 
in  the  war,  and  was  at  once  recognized  by  Sherman. 
There  were  ten  to  fifteen  thousand  of  crowd  in  front, 
and  their  patience  was  marvellous.  The  'exercises' 
lasted  for  hours.  There  was  a  laudable  endeavor  to  bring 
in  all  elements.  The  prayer  was  by  the  Bishop  of  the 
IMethodist  African  Episcopal  Church,  from  Baltimore,  a 
full-blooded  negro ;  a  company  of  negro  volunteers  in 
zouave  uniform,  in  a  place  of  honor  ;  and  I  must  say  the 
negro  prayer  and  the  negro  clothes  excelled  in  taste,  on 
the  whole." 

After  the  ceremony  there  was  a  reception  and  banquet, 
one  of  the  toasts  being  the  health  of  Mr.  Forster.  He 
wrote  to  his  wife  this  story  of  Lincoln  told  by  Mr. 
Judd  :  — 

"  When  he  was  in  one  of  liis  hardest  fights  with 
Douglas,  wlio  was  a  strong  {)ro-slavery  man,  Judd 
looked  over  the  notes  of  one  of  his  speeches,  and  said 


idence 
iglitful 
4  with 
itli  his 
lie  tirst 
;  York. 
I  recog- 
lip  for 
callers 
loper,  a 
,  active 

xtiie  of 
was  in- 
nt  gen- 
!  armies 
lerman. 

front, 
ercises ' 
o  bring 

of  the 
more,  a 
eers  in 
say  the 
aste,  on 

fanquet, 
iv.  He 
by  Mr. 

ts  with 
Judd 
nd  said 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FOIiSTER. 


299 


this  would  not  do  for  their  audience  ;  not  anti-slavery 
enough  in  expression,  rather  than  substance.  Lincoln's 
reply  was,  '  This  is  all  I  feel,  and  I  would  rather  lose  the 
election  than  mislead  the  peojde  even  by  an  adjective.'  " 

Forster  went  to  Colorado,  where  he  enjo^^ed  the  grand 
scenery  ;  to  St.  Louis,  where,  on  leaving  for  New  Orleans, 
General  Sherman  said  to  him,  "  You  will  want  no  let- 
ters ;  you  are  as  well  known  in  America  as  in  England : " 
and  then  to  Tennessee,  where  he  visited  the  house  in 
which  his  father  had  died  twenty  years  before,  the  grave- 
yard at  Friendsville,  where  he  was  buried,  and  spoke  to 
the  inmates  of  the  William  Forster  Home  for  th.e  daugh- 
ters of  Friends,  in  which  they  learned  housekeeping,  and 
went  to  the  Friends'  school  close  by. 

Prom  this  place  Forster  went  to  Baltimore,  carefully 
inspecting  the  schools  ;  and  then  to  Boston,  where  he  was 
the  guest  of  his  friend  Charles  Francis  Adams.  Six 
years  before  this,  Adams  had  presented  Forster  with  a 
copy  of  the  works  of  his  grandfather,  John  Adams,  to 
the  editing  of  which  he  had  devoted  the  greater  part  of 
eight  years.  He  wrote  with  the  gift :  "  I  find  one  copy 
which  I  had  reserved  for  the  person  whom  I  m.jst  es- 
teem, as  well  for  his  stanch  and  unvarying  support  of  a 
policy  of  good-will  to  America,  as  for  his  personal  quali- 
ties as  I  have  observed  them  in  private  intercourse. 
Will  you  do  me  the  great  favor  to  accept  of  it  ?  " 

In  Boston,  Philadelphia,  and  Washington,  Forster 
visited  the  schools  with  great  interest.  In  the  latter 
city,  he  dined  with  President  Grant  and  other  distin- 
guished men.  When  the  annexation  of  Canada  was 
mentioned  by  Grant,  Forste-  said:  '' If  Canada  chooses 
one  day  to  leave  us,  and  the  next  day  to  join  you,  we  shall 
not  object ;  but   she  seems  to  like  to  stop  with  us  ;  in 


m 


im 


V 

it.         '   ■ 


lil 


\.     \ 


11 


300 


WILLIAM  EBWAlil)  FOliSTEli. 


fact,  the  lesson  you  taught  us  a  hundred  years  ago,  has 
made  us  so  treat  our  colonics  tliat  it  will  be  very  difficult 
for  them  to  leave  us,  and  we  shall  stick  to  them  till  they 
wish  to  do  so." 

Forster  was  an  ardent  supporter  of  Imperial  Federa- 
tion, often  speaking  upon  the  subject.  He  wished  "to 
replace  the  idea  of  eventual  independence,  which  means 
disunion,  by  that  of  association  on  equal  terms,  which 
means  union." 

Ten  years  later  he  presided  at  a  conference  on  Colonial 
Federation,  at  Westminster  Palace  Hotel,  and  noted  in 
his  diary  that  the  meeting  was  "  a  real  success."  Forster 
was  made  president  of  the  committee,  and  an  Imperial 
Federation  League  was  at  once  organized.  He  would 
have  gone  to  Canada  to  have  urged  the  plan,  but  his  ill- 
ness and  death  prevented. 

Kot  long  before  his  death,  he  wrote  to  Sir  George 
Bowen  :  "  My  own  impression  is,  that,  at  first  at  any  rate, 
we  had  better  aim  at  concert  among  the  governments 
rather  tlian  at  an  Imperial  Parliament.  .  .  .  We  must 
remember  that  in  order  to  realize  Federation,  we  only 
want  (1)  an  organization  for  common  defence,  and  (2)  a 
common  foreign  policy." 

In  1875,  after  Forster's  return  from  America,  he  went 
to  Edinburgh,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  received  the 
freedom  of  the  city,  and  was  made  Lord  Rector  of 
Aberdeen  University,  receiving  also  the  freedom  of 
Aberdeen.  .  .  . 

In  his  address  to  the  students,  he  said :  "  Who  are  the 
real  governors  of  the  nation  ?  Xot  the  ministers,  who 
are  the  servants  of  the  sovereign.  Not  the  sovereign, 
who  chooses  th(>se  ministers  in  order  that  they  may 
carry  out  the  will  of  the  people.     Xot  even  the  voters, 


lU'f 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FORSTER. 


301 


e  the 
who 

c'ign, 
may 
ters, 


who  are,  as  it  were,  the  machines  by  wliieh  its  will  is 
discovered,  expressed,  and  registered ;  but  the  men  who 
influence  this  will,  and  persuade  the  voters,  who  regulate 
and  modify  public  opinion  by  writing,  by  books  or  pam- 
phlets or  newspaper  articles,  or  sermons  or  speeches,  by 
conversation  with  acquaintances  or  friends,  and,  above 
all,  by  the  example  of  their  lives.  Now,  surely  our 
universities  ought  to  turn  out  men  able  '  ■  one  or  other 
of  those  ways  to  influence  public  opinion.'" 

The  following  year,  the  country  liaving  been  stirred 
by  the  publication  in  the  Dd'ihj  JSfews  of  the  Bulgarian 
atrocities,  Forster  determined  to  visit  the  East,  and  study 
the  condition  of  things.  His  eldest  daughter  accompa- 
nied him.  .  .  . 

She  speaks  of  her  father  as  a  delightful  travelling  com- 
panion, though  she  says  :  "  I  am  afraid  we  used  some- 
times rather  to  quail  at  the  thoroughness  of  his  explora- 
tions, and  to  wish  in  our  hearts,  after  we  had  performed 
our  flrst  duty  in  a  strange  town,  namely,  going  to  the 
top  of  the  highest  tower  or  spire  available,  that  the  sac- 
ristan of  the  cathedral  might  be  out,  so  that  we  should 
be  spared  our  second  duty,  —  a  thorough  examination  of 
all  the  old  tombs  and  monuments  inside. 

"  j\Iy  father  had  a  great  love  for  old  family  records, 
and  a  wonderful  faculty  for  making  out  and  remcmbn- 
ing  the  most  complicated  genealogies  and  pedigrees. 
For  this  reason  he  delighted  in  old  monuments  and 
family  portraits,  whether  in  public  or  i)rivate  collec- 
tions. ...  It  was  a  never-ceasing  cause  of  regret  to  my 
father  that  he  was  not  more  familiar  with  French  and 
German  in  the  way  of  a  speaking  knowledge,  in  addition 
to  a  written  one." 

At  Brussels,  Forster  dined  with  the  King,  and  then 


it 


M 


■<!  M 


li  \i 


in 


m 


ni'] 


I*' 


i    i'. 


iiui  i 


m 


i 


I 


302 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FOliSTER. 


travelled  to  Prague,  Budapest,  Belgrade,  Bucharest, 
reaching  Constantinople  on  the  middle  of  September. 
He  heard  reports  from  the  Bulgarian  refugees,  and  made 
careful  notes.  He  studied  the  Turks,  and  found  "the 
government  beyond  description  bad,  ignorant,  inefficient, 
corrupt  —  places  bought  or  given  to  despicable  favorites, 
merit  going  absolutely  for  nothing." 

On  his  return  to  England  he  addressed  his  constituents 
on  what  he  had  seen ;  confirmed  the  reports  of  the  terri- 
ble cruelties ;  but  feared  the  different  provinces  could 
not  have  self-government  without  continued  war.  He 
urged  that  Turkey  give  a  constitution  to  the  Christians. 
He  was  blamed  by  many  Liberals  as  being  too  conserva- 
tive, and  called  "  a  trimmer,"  as  he  had  been  called  before 
in  the  education  warfare.  Forster  was  opposed  to  the 
Afghanistan  and  Zulu  wars,  carried  on  under  the  Beacous- 
field  ministry. 

When  Gladstone  came  into  power  in  1880,  Forster  was 
made  Chief  Secretary  for  Ireland.  No  position  under 
the  English  Government  could  be  more  difficult.  He 
had  been  for  years  derply  interested  in  the  Irish  people, 
and  it  was  hoped  that  >i  stormy  times  in  that  country, 
through  his  leadership,  would  become  more  peaceful. 

There  was  severe  distress  in  Ireland  from  bad  harvests. 
The  Irish  people  had  demanded  Home  Rule,  and  as  yet 
none  of  the  Cabinet  favored  it,  believing  that  it  would 
lead  to  a  separation  of  the  Union. 

The  Irish  Land  Act  had  been  formed  by  Mr.  Gladstone's 
Government  in  1870.  "Xew  rights  had  been  conferred 
on  tenants  with  reference  to  compensation  for  disturb- 
ance by  the  act  of  the  landlords,  except  in  the  case  of 
eviction  for  non-payment  of  rent."  Mr.  Forster  saw 
that  tenants  were  being  pressed  by  the  landlords,  either 


4'i 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FOliSTEli. 


308 


:one's 
erred 
iturb- 
ise  of 
saw 
either 


r 


to  secure  rents,  or  to  get  possession  of  their  houses  and 
lands.  He  proposed  a  bill  providing  compensation  for 
evicted  tenants.  At  once  the  landlords  oi)posed  this,  and 
after  heated  controversy,  the  Compensation  for  Disturb- 
ance Bill  was  defeated  by  the  House  of  Lords. 

More  than  one  thousand  evictions  had  taken  place  in 
the  first  six  months  of  1880.  Matters  were  rapidly  grow- 
ing from  bad  to  worse.  A  great  sensation  was  caused  by 
the  murder  of  Lord  Mountmorris,  who  was  found  near 
his  home  in  County  Gal  way  with  six  bullets  in  his  body. 

Boycotting  had  begun.  Captain  Boycott,  an  English- 
man, who  had  charge  of  Lord  Earne's  lands  in  Conneniara, 
had  served  notices  on  the  tenants.  At  once  the  people 
for  miles  around  resolved  to  have  nothing  to  do  with 
him.  No  one  would  work  for  him,  and  he  and  his  wife 
were  obliged  to  till  the  fields.  The  Orangemen  sent  him 
armed  laborers  from  Ulster  to  assist  him.  Then  the 
Government,  through  Forster,  sent  five  hundred  infantry 
and  three  squadrons  of  cavalry,  to  protect  these  men 
while  they  gathered  the  crops. 

Boycotting  continued.  A  landlord  who  had  evicted  a 
tenant,  or  a  man  who  bid  for  a  farm  from  which  a  tenant 
liad  been  turned  out,  was  "  shunned  in  the  street,  in  the 
sliop,  in  the  market-place,  even  in  the  place  of  worship, 
as  if  he  were  a  leper  of  old."  Crops  rotted  in  the  fields. 
When  the  owner  went  to  sell  produce,  nobody  bouglit. 
When  he  and  his  family  went  to  church,  the  whole  con- 
gregation would  rise  and  leave  the  place.  Cattle  and 
sheep  were  killed  or  mutilated  in  the  fields  at  night. 
Men  were  continually  threatened  by  anonymous  letters, 
decorated  with  coflins,  skulls,  and  swords. 

The  Land  LePTue  leaders  were  becoming  more  and 
more  hostile  to  tue  Government.     Mr.  Dillon  had  said, 


'i  If 


i  i       .  1  ''9 


Jf 


iH' 


;:;i 


ill  ii 


'    I 


115 


i:  ill 


ii 


I'  ^ 


'it 


!  : 


IIM 


304 


ir/LL/Jj/  edwaud  forster. 


as  quoted  by  Mr.  Forster  in  the  House  of  Commons,  that 
"  those  in  I'arliament  faithful  to  tlie  cause  of  the  people 
could  paralyze  the  hands  of  the  Government,  and  pre- 
vent them  from  passing  such  laws  as  Avould  throw  men 
into  prison  for  organizing  themselves.  In  Parliament 
they  could  obstruct,  and  outside  of  it  they  could  set  the 
people  free  to  drill  and  organize  themselves." 

In  the  angry  debate  ]\Ir.  Forster  suggested,  it  is  said, 
the  use  of  buckshot  for  the  Irish  constabulary,  and  was 
nicknamed  "  Buckshot "  by  the  men  who  opposed  him. 

Fourteen  of  the  Land  League  leaders  were  arrested  on 
the  charge  of  preventing  the  payment  of  rent :  JNIessrs. 
Parnell,  Dillon,  Biggar,  Sullivan,  Sexton,  and  others.  Of 
course  Forster  and  Parnell  were  completely  at  enmity. 

Landlords  came  by  the  score  to  Mr.  Forster,  detailing 
their  grievances ;  poor  tenants  by  the  score,  telling  of 
their  want  and  utter  ruin.  The  Tories,  under  the  leader- 
ship of  Lord  Salisbury,  accused  Forster  of  weakness  and 
cowardice  in  not  controlling  the  outrages ;  the  Irish 
leaders  were  angered  that  he  should  think  or  speak  of 
coercion. 

Mr.  Forster,  whether  wisely  or  unwisely,  at  least  "^'ith 
the  concurrence  of  the  Liberal  Government,  determined 
to  bring  in  a  Protection  Bill  for  Life  and  Property,  whidi 
empowered  the  Lord  Lieutenant  to  issue  a  warrant  fur 
the  arrest  of  any  person  whom  he  might  reasonably  sus- 
pect of  treason,  or  crimes  of  intimidation.  Mr.  Forster 
said  in  his  speech  in  presenting  the  Coercion  Bill :  "Tliis 
has  been  to  me  a  most  painful  duty.  I  never  expected 
that  I  should  have  to  discharge  it.  .  .  .  If  I  could  have 
foreseen  that  this  would  be  the  result  of  twenty  years  of 
Parliamentary  life,  I  would  have  left  Parliament  rather 
than  have  undertaken  it.     But  I  never  was  more  clear 


I '  i 


WILLIAM  EDWARD   FORSTER. 


305 


IS,  that 
people 
ad  pre- 
)w  men 
liament 
set  the 

is  said, 
mcl  was 
I  him. 
jsted  on 
Messrs. 
ers.     Of 
unity, 
letailing 
filing  of 
e  leader- 
iiess  and 
iie   Irish 
peak  of 

ast  ".'Hh 
ermmed 
Avhich 
rant  for 
ably  sus- 
Forster 
:  "This 
expected 
uld  have 
years  of 
it  rather 
Dre  clear 


than  I  am  now  that  it  is  my  duty.  I  never  was  more 
clear  that  the  man  responsible,  as  I  am,  for  the  adminis- 
tration of  the  government  of  Ireland,  ought  no  longer 
to  have  any  part  or  share  in  any  government  which  does 
not  fulfil  its  first  duty, — the  protection  of  person  and 
property,  and  the  security  of  liberty." 

The  opposition  to  the  bill  by  the  Irish  party  was  long 
and  bitter.  Once  during  the  debate  the  House  sat  for 
forty-one  and  a  half  hours,  from  Monday  afternoon  till 
Wednesday  morning. 

Mr.  Bright,  wlio  had  been  a  sincere  friend  to  Ireland, 
always  claiming  that  "  force  was  no  remedy,"  now  favored 
the  bill  in  a  speech  of  great  eloquence,  feeling  that  de- 
spite all  the  sufferings  of  the  Irish  people,  crime  must 
be  punished.  Gladstone  also  spoke  with  his  wonted  fire 
and  power.  The  bill  received  the  royal  assent  March  2, 
1881.  Gladstone's  Irish  Land  Bill  was  passed  in  August 
of  the  same  year. 

Forster  was  hated  worse  than  ever.  His  life  was  in 
danger.  He  received  constantly  threatening  letters  — 
one  of  these  an  explosive  —  and  one  from  a  man  who 
had  dogged  his  steps  with  intent  to  murder,  but  finally 
determined  to  spare  him  for  the  sake  of  "the  lovely 
girl,"  his  daughter,  who  was  walking  beside  him  in 
Phoenix  Park,  a  place  which  later  was  to  obtain  a  sad 
celebrity.  In  spite  of  all  this  Forster  never  hesitated  to 
go  among  the  people,  and  address  them.  Sometimes 
such  courage  won  their  applause,  and  voices  from  the 
crowd  would  call  out,  "  We  admire  your  pluck  !  " 

Tlie  speeches  of  Parnell  and  other  Land  Leaguers  had 
become  so  pronounced  against  Gladstone,  then  Prime 
jNIinister,  and  Forster,  that  the  latter  wrote  to  Gladstone 
suggesting   the    wisdom   of   their    arrest.     Accordingly 


■M 


i! 


5 ;! 

3     '.4 


lit 


Itl 


Su 


'i    ! 


l! 


t  >i 


III  n 

,'a!   Ill 


11!  i: 


I 


I  ? 


11 


1 


I  II 


L^^i 


30G 


ir/ii/.l.V  i!,7>HM/i'L>  FOliSTER. 


Messrs.  Parnell,  Dillon,  O'Kellj^  and  others  were  con- 
fined in  Kilmainluuu  prison.  The  arrests  created  tlie 
greatest  sensation.  England  rejoiced  exceedingly,  and 
lio])ed  the  worst  was  over. 

Soon  an  address  was  placarded  on  the  walls  of  Dublin, 
calling  upon  the  Irish  peojde  to  ])ay  no  rent  while  their 
leaders  were  in  prison.  It  was  signed  by  Charles  S.  I*ar- 
nell,  ])resident,  Kilniainham  Gaol,  followed  by  the  names 
of  the  other  prisoners. 

Forster  at  once  issued  a  proclamation  declaring  the 
Land  League  to  be  an  illegal  association,  and  that  its 
meetings  would  be  suppressed  by  force. 

^lurder  and  other  crimes  were  on  the  increase,  although 
scores  of  persons  had  been  imprisoned.  ^Mr.  Forster  wrote 
Mr.  Gladstone :  "  If  we  could  get  the  country  quiet,  I 
should  be  anxious  to  leave  Ireland.  While  we  are  fight- 
ing for  law  and  order  I  cannot  desert  my  post ;  but  tliis 
battle  over,  and  the  Land  Act  well  at  work,  I  am  quite 
sure  that  the  best  course  for  Ireland,  as  well  as  for  my- 
self, would  be  my  replacement  by  some  one  not  tarred 
by  the  coercion  brush." 

On  January  1,  1882,  when  some  one  wished  Mr.  Fors- 
ter a  ''  happy  new  year,"  he  replied,  '•'  Mine  is  a  more 
modest  wish ;  it  is  that  it  may  be  a  less  bad  year  than 
the  last."  Early  in  this  year  the  Queen  invited  jNIr. 
Forstor  to  Osborne  to  explain  to  her  personally  the  con- 
dition of  Ireland. 

Matters  did  not  improve.  The  Radicals  called  for  a 
change  in  the  Irish  Secretaryship  ;  many  Liberals  felt 
that  the  coercion  policy  had  failed,  and  the  Conserva- 
tives even  were  prepared  to  make  some  concession.  The 
American  Government  had  become  urgent  that  those 
prisoners  should  be  released  who  could  prove  themselves 
citizens  of  the  United  States. 


-H»C_ 


WILLI  AN  ED]\'ARI)  FOIiSTER. 


307 


Fors- 
inore 
than 

d  :\ir. 

lie  con- 
fer a 

IS  felt 
iserva- 
The 
those 
iselves 


Mr.  Ghidstone  and  liis  Cabinet  at  last  decided  to 
reh^ase  JSlessrs.  rarnell,  Dillon,  and  O'Kelly.  As  Mr. 
Forster  considered  this  a  "snrrender  to  the  law-break- 
ers," he  resii,niLHl  the  secretaryship,  and  Lord  Frederick 
Cavendish  became  Chief  Secretary  for  Ireland.  Mr.  Fors- 
ter had  worked  nntiringly,  during  the  two  years  of  his 
secretaryship,  without  rest  or  relaxation.  "  How  his 
constitution  stood  it,  was  wonderful,"  says  Mr.  Jepson, 
his  private  secretary.  "  From  early  morning  until  late 
at  night'he  was  always  at  work;  not  perfunctorily  work- 
ing, but  with  the  whole  of  his  powerful  mind  given  to  his 
task,  —  given  to  it  with  an  earnestness,  a  thoroughness, 
which  was  one  of  his  most  remarkable  characteristics. 
He  was  always  anxious  to  get  every  possible  information 
on  any  subject  he  had  to  deal  with.  .  .  .  Everything  — 
ease,  comfort,  health  —  was  sacrificed  that  he  might  per- 
form his  duty."  The  wear  of  these  years  had  been  almost 
unbearable.  But  he  had  come  out  of  the  trying  ordeal 
with  his  life,  and  that  was  cause  for  congratulation. 
How  narrowly  he  had  escaped,  events  soon  proved. 

Lord  Frederick  Cavendish  was  appointed  to  his  posi- 
tion May  4,  1882,  and  started  for  Dublin  on  the  follow- 
ing day.  At  sunset.  May  G,  about  seven  o'clock,  after 
the  inaugural  ceremony,  as  he  was  walking  with  the 
under-sec  re  tary,  Mr.  T.  H.  Burke,  in  Phoenix  Park,  they 
were  attacked  by  four  men,  and  almost  cut  to  pieces. 
The  fight  was  witnessed  by  several  persons  passing  near 
the  walk,  who  supposed  it  rough  play,  and  passed  on. 
The  right  arm  of  young  Lord  Cavendish  was  broken.  It 
was  evident  that  he  had  lost  his  life  in  trying  to  save 
his  friend  Burke,  who,  acting  under  Forster,  had  incurred 
the  hatred  of  the  Irish. 

England,  and  indeed  the  whole  world,  was  horrified. 


;'  J 


I 


fin 


ji 


308 


WILLIAM  EDWAIil)  FORSTER. 


At  the  time,  1  was  in  England,  and  I  shall  never  forget 
the  sorrow  of  the  nation  at  the  untimely  death  of  the 
beloved  son  of  the  Duke  of  Devonshire,  and  brother  of 
Lord  Hartington,  the  Liberal  leader. 

He  was  buried  from  the  magnificent  Chatsworth  home, 
fifty  thousand  persons  in  attendance.  More  than  half  of 
the  House  of  Commons  gathered  about  that  open  grave 
in  the  churchyard  of  that  model  village  Edensor,  one  of 
the  loveliest  places  in  England,  while  the  children  saiig, 
"Brief  life  is  here  our  portion."  The  Queen  sent  a 
wreath  of  crimson  roses,  which  the  young  wife  laid  upon 
the  collin. 

Forster  at  once,  with  a  bravery  beyond  that  of  most 
men,  offered  himself  to  Gladstone,  to  fill  the  place  thus 
made  vacant,  "ven  when  he  knew  that  his  death  was 
intended,   and   not  that  of  Cavendish. 

Government  offered  ten  thousand  pounds  reward  for 
the  detection  of  the  murderers,  and  immediately  passed 
a  very  strong  Coercion  Bill,  which  was  stoutly  resisted 
by  the  Irish  members,  who,  however,  heartily  condemned 
the  dreadful  murder. 

January  13,  1883,  the  Dublin  police  arrested  twenty 
men  suspected  of  complicity  in  the  Cavendish  murder. 
James  Carey,  a  member  of  the  Dublin  Town  Council,  a 
well-to-do  contractor  and  builder,  the  leader  of  the  Irish 
Invincibles,  turned  informer.  He  planned  the  murder, 
gave  the  signal  for  the  crime,  and  witnessed  the  execu- 
tion. 

Carey  told  of  the  repeated  attempts  to  take  the  life  of 
Forster.  Once  they  intended  to  meet  him  at  the  railway 
station  on  his  return  from  Clare,  but  were  misinformed 
as  to  the  time  of  his  arrival.  Again,  he  was  to  be  sliot 
while  driving  from  his  lodge  to  Dublin,  and  the  men  who 


|.l! 


I        r 


f 


i 


^^4. 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FOliSTER. 


309 


iimrdcred  Lord  Cavendish  were  lying  io.  wait  for  him,  a 
comrade  promising  to  give  the  signal  of  his  api)roach. 
Tilt'  man's  lieart  failed  iiim,  and  ho  allowed  the  carriage 
to  pass.  For  four  successive  nights  of  the  week  in 
which  Forster  took  his  final  departure  from  Ireland, 
fifteen  men  were  waiting  to  kill  him  as  he  entered  tlie 
train  for  Kingstown,  but  each  time  he  seemed  marvel- 
lously saved  from  their  hands.  They  turned  their  atten- 
tion to  the  faithful  Burke,  only  when  they  saw  that 
Forster  had  escaped  them. 

Five  of  the  Cavendish  murderers  were  hanged,  three 
were  sentenced  to  penal  servitude  for  life,  and  the  others 
to  various  periods  of  penal  servitude.  Carey  was  shot 
on  board  a  ship  at  sea  on  his  way  to  the  Cape,  by  a  man 
named  O'Donnell.  Whether  the  latter  was  sent  by  some 
secret  sociity  to  do  the  work,  was  never  fully  ascer- 
tained. O'Donnell  was  brought  back  to  London,  and 
hanged. 

In  the  autumn  of  1882  Forster  visited  Russia,  and 
returned  with  renewed  health  and  vigor.  In  1883  he 
paid  another  visit  to  the  East,  to  see  for  himself  what 
changes  had  been  wrought  in  Bulgaria  as  a  result  of  the 
Kusso-Turkish  war,  and  was  delighted  at  the  capacity 
shown  for  self-government. 

In  1884  he  took  an  active  part  in  the  new  franchise 
bill,  '•  based  on  uniform  household  and  lodger  franchise 
in  counties  and  boroughs."  He  was  deeply  interested 
for  General  Gordon  in  the  Soudan,  and  helped  to  enlist 
the  government  in  the  expedition  sent  to  his  relief.  "  I 
can  think  of  nothing  but  Gordon  and  the  Soudan,"  he 
wrote  in  his  diary  after  word  came  that  Gordon  was 
dead. 

In  the  summer  of  1885  Forster  went  to  Germany  with 


m 


iipii 


!ti  1^ 


i  ^ 


V^ 


310 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FORSTER. 


his  daughter,  seeming  tired  and  weak  from  overwork. 
On  his  return  home,  he  was  still  weak,  and  spent  most 
of  his  time  in  reading,  going  through  all  the  Waverley 
Novels,  Scott's  poems,  Macaulay's  histories,  and  other 
old  favorite".  He  admired  the  poetry  of  his  wife's 
brother,  Matthew  Arnold,  and  often  read  his  favorite, 
"The  Future,"  and  also  "The  Forsaken  ^ferman."  He 
used  to  say,  sometimes,  "The  doctors  are  always  saying 
I  am  better,  but  I  never  get  well." 

The  Queen  sent  often  to  inquire  about  his  health,  and 
the  physician  sent  her  daily  bulletins  till  Mr.  Forster 
seemed  better. 

November  29  he  was  re-elected  for  Bradford,  but  was 
never  able  to  take  his  seat  again  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons. The  nights  of  sleeplessness  increased.  He  spent 
much  time  in  reading  the  Bible,  and  enjoyed  having  his 
wife  repeat  hymns  to  him.  He  said  to  her,  "  We  have 
had  some  blessed  times  together ;  "  and  again,  "  I  would 
not  have  been  without  this  sickness  for  the  world." 

He  was  gratified  at  the  kind  letters  that  poured  in, 
and  remarked  to  his  wife,  "  I  did  not  know  people  cared 
about  me  so  much."  When  told  that  the  Friends  in  their 
meeting  had  prayed  for  him,  he  burst  into  tears,  as  he 
aaid,  "  The  church  of  my  fathers  has  not  forgotten  me  !  " 

In  the  winter  he  went  to  Torquay,  and  returned  the 
last  of  February.  He  thought  of,  and  talked  much 
about,  Ireland,  and  was  pleased  when  his  daughter  sent 
him,  as  she  had  been  accustomed  to  do,  a  bunch  of  sham- 
rock on  St.  Patrick's  Day.  He  said  often,  "I  have  tried 
to  serve  my  country." 

Sometimes  he  talked  of  education  matters,  and  said  he 
foresaw  a  crusade  to  make  all  the  schools  secular,  "  but," 
he  added,  "  I  shall  drive  them  out  of  that  in  the  House." 


■pi  W 


9  S 


WILLIAM  EDWARD   FOIISTER. 


311 


5) 


He  grew  weaker  day  by  day,  but  never  complained. 
Once  he  said,  in  the  early  part  of  his  illness,  '•  How  little 
suffering  I  have  had  !  it  has  been  nothing  at  all  compared 
with  many."  During  the  latter  part  he  suffered  intensely. 
April  2  he  went  with  his  wife  for  a  drive,  and,  before 
he  was  carried  up-stairs,  called  out  a  message  of  thanks 
to  the  coachman  for  having  got  ready  so  quickly.  After 
that  day  he  seemed  to  have  more  fever.  On  jSIonday 
morning,  April  5,  1886,  his  breathing  was  quick  and 
painful.  His  wife  asked  if  he  knew  that  it  was  her  arm 
that  was  supporting  him.  He  gave  an  emphatic  assent. 
"  Then,"  says  his  daughter,  "  the  breath  came  slower  and 
softer,  till  the  last  was  hardly  a  sigh,  and  slowly  and 
gently  he  passed  away  out  of  our  reach." 

The  Queen  wrote  two  days  later  to  Mrs.  Forster:  "I 
purposely  delayed  writing  at  once  to  you,  not  wishing  to 
intrude  on  your  overwhelming  grief  for  the  loss  of  such 
a  husband,  so  good  and  so  devoted,  fearing  to  add  to  the 
weight  of  your  affliction ;  but  to-day  I  trust  I  may  ven- 
ture to  express  not  only  the  deep  sympathy  I  feel  for 
you,  but  also  the  true  and  sincere  concern  I  feel  at  the 
loss  of  one  for  whom  I  had  the  greatest  regard  and 
respecc,  and  who  served  his  Queen  and  country  bravely, 
truly,  and  loyally." 

A  funeral  service  was  held  in  Westminster  Abbe}-, 
April  9,  a.ttended  by  a  vast  throng  of  his  political  asso- 
ciates and  opponents,  and  the  general  public  —  all  differ- 
rences  merged  in  a  common  sorrow.  Saturday,  April  10, 
in  the  midst  of  thousands  from  Bradford,  Leeds,  and 
other  towns,  William  Edward  Forster  was  laid,  accord- 
ing to  his  wish,  in  the  burial-ground  at  Burley,  near  his 
home. 

In  Bradford,  his  memory  is  perpetuated  by  a  statue. 


I  n 


)i; 


812 


WILLIAM  EDWARD  FOliSTER. 


■>■ 


M 


1 1 


In  Westminster  Abbey,  a  medallion  in  his  memory  has 
been  placed  close  to  the  monument  of  his  uncle,  Sir 
Thomas  Fowell  Buxton. 

On  Friday,  August  1,  1890,  a  bronze  statue  of  Mr. 
Forster  was  unveiled  in  London,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Thames,  in  front  of  the  offices  of  the  London  School 
Board,  in  the  midst  of  sympathetic  thousands.  The 
statue  was  modelled  by  the  sculi)tor,  Richard  Pinker. 
On  the  granite  pedestal  are  the  words  :  "  William  Edward 
Forster,  born  July  11,  1818  ;  died  April  5,  1886.  To  his 
wisdom  and  courage  England  owes  the  establishment 
throughout  the  land  of  a  national  system  of  Elementary 
Education." 

The  son  of  the  Quaker  preachers  wrought  great  good 
for  England.  He  was  sometimes  too  blunt  in  speech, 
said  his  friends,  but  he  was  affectionate  by  nature,  and 
true-hearted.  Born  in  poverty,  and  unsettled  as  to  his 
life-work,  he  found  it  at  last,  and  did  it  heroically.  The 
Education  Act  of  1870  will  go  on  forever  in  its  far- 
reaching  influences.  Mr.  Reid  says  truly,  "  If  any  visi- 
ble and  tangible  memorial  of  the  life  of  such  a  r^^an  as 
Mr.  Forster  were  needed  to  preserve  his  name  from 
oblivion,  it  would  be  found  not  in  carven  marble  or 
moulded  bronze,  but  in  the  schoolhouses  which,  rising  in 
every  town  and  village  in  the  land  he  loved  so  well,  bear 
witness  to  the  success  of  the  Education  Act,  of  which 
he  was  the  author." 


i  !! 


lory  has 
icle,  Sir 

of  Mr. 

of  the 
School 
s.  The 
Pinker. 
Edward 
To  his 
shmeiit 
lentary 


it  good 
speech, 
re,,  and 
to  his 
.  The 
its  far- 
ly  visi- 
nan  as 
3  from 
ble  or 
sing  in 
11,  bear 
which 


mm 


J    I  ;  1 


THE  EARL  OF  BEACONSFIELD. 


f 


LORD  MELBOURNE,  Prime  Minister:  "Well,  Mr. 
Disraeli,  what  is  your  idea  in  entering  Parliament  ? 
What  is  your  ambition  ?  " 

Disraeli,  a  young  Jew,  without  fortune  or  influence : 
"  To  be  Prime  Minister  of  England,  my  lord ! " 

"  What  audacity  ! "  said  the  world.  And  the  world 
looked  on  and  wondered,  while  the  Jew,  through  obsta- 
cles almost  insurmountable,  steadily  worked  on  till  the 
prize  was  won. 

Benjamin  Disraeli  was  born  in  London,  December  21, 
1804.  His  ancestors  formerly  lived  in  Spain,  but  were 
driven  out  by  the  Inquisition,  and  settled  in  Venice.  In 
1748  Benjamin's  grandfather  came  to  England,  acquired 
a  moderate  fortune,  and  hoped  to  found  a  great  family 
like  Rothschild.  His  wife,  a  proud  woman,  tired  of  the 
persecution  and  social  ostracism  of  the  Jews,  wished  to 
have  her  husband  abandon  his  ancestral  faith,  but  this  In? 
refused  to  do.  She  was  "  so  mortified,"  says  her  grand- 
son, "  by  her  social  position,  that  she  lived  until  eighty 


jj 


without  indulging  a  tender  expression. 

The  hopes  of  both  parents  centred  in  their  only 
child,  Isaac.  They  expe(;ted  him  to  become  a  great 
financier.  To  their  amazement  and  extreme  disappro- 
bation, he  became  a  bookworm.      He   abhor.-e "   trade. 

313 


I  li 


1 


.    ia  in 


1  I 


hi 
I 

1  i 


1^! 


'l? 


314 


THE  EARL   OF  BEACON SFIELB. 


He  not  only,  says  his  son,  never  entered  into  the  politics 
of  the  day,  but  lie  could  never  understand  them.  He 
ne^er  was  connected  with  any  body  or  set  of  men,  com- 
rades of  school  or  college,  or  confederates  in  that  public 
life  which,  in  England,  is  perhaps  the  only  foundation 
of  real  friendship. 

"  He  was  a  comjilete  literary  character,  a  man  who 
really  passed  his  life  in  a  library.  Even  marriage  pro- 
duced no  change  in  these  habits.  He  rose  early  to  enter 
the  chamber  where  he  lived  alone  with  his  books,  and  at 
night  his  lamp  was  ever  lit  in  the  same  walls.  He  dis- 
liked business,  and  he  never  required  relaxation ;  he 
was  absorbed  in  his  pursuits. 

"  In  London  his  only  amusement  was  to  ramble  among 
booksellers ;  if  he  entered  a  club,  it  was  only  to  go  into 
the  library.  In  the  country  he  scarcely  ever  left  his 
room  but  to  saunter  in  abstraction  upon  a  terrace,  muse 
over  a  chapter,  or  coin  a  sentence.  He  had  not  a  single 
passion  or  prejudice." 

His  disappointed  parents  had  tried  every  resource  and 
failed.  They  placed  him  in  a  counting-house  in  Holland, 
but  he  wrote  poems  against  commerce,  when  they  hoi)ed 
he  would  be  learning  trade.  He  read  Voltaire  aiid 
Kousseau,  and  was  destined,  as  might  have  been  seen 
from  the  first,  to  become  an  author. 

What  the  boy  might  have  been  with  congenial  sur- 
roundings, with  a  mother  who  was  proud  of  him  and  who 
sympathized  with  him,  the  world  can  only  conjecture. 
Intellects,  like  hearts,  are  usually  stunted  from  lack  of 
warmhh  and  sunshine. 

Before  he  was  thirty  he  produced  "Curiosities  of 
Literature,"  a  mine  of  information,  showing  wide  read- 
ing and  intense  love  for  it.     He  married  a  Jewess,  Maria 


1  |! 


!!  1 


THE  EAItL   OF  BEACON SFI ELI). 


315 


he 


Basevi,  a  gentle,  affectionate  woman,  and  his  life  was  a 
happy  one.  He  lived  in  his  own  s})lendid  library,  and 
amid  the  vast  treasures  of  the  British  Museuui. 

Their  first  child,  Sr  ah,  a  woman  of  unusual  powers, 
became  the  idol  of  her  brother  Benjamin.  The  two 
younger  children  were  Ralph  and  James. 

Benjamin  seems  to  have  inherited  his  father's  love  of 
books,  his  grandmother's  "  strong  intellect,"  and  many 
characteristics  from  his  grandfather.  "  He  was,"  says 
Disraeli,  "a  man  of  ardent  character,  sanguine,  cour- 
ageous, speculative,  and  fortunate  ;  with  a  temper  which 
no  disappointment  could  disturb,  and  a  brain  full  of 
resources." 

Benjamin  inherited  his  mother's  affectionate  nature. 
Although  he  might  say  in  "  Tancred,"  "  No  affections 
and  a  great  brain  —  these  are  the  men  to  command  the 
world,"  his  devotion  to  his  sister,  and  later  to  a  wife 
fifteen  years  his  senior,  are  among  the  most  beautiful 
things  of  his  brilliant  life. 

Isaac  Disraeli  withdrew  from  the  Jewish  Church,  and 
became,  with  his  entire  household,  members  of  the 
Church  of  England.  He  said,  "  The  inventions  of  the 
Talmudical  doctors,  incorporated  in  their  ceremonies, 
have  bound  them  hand  and  foot,  and  cast  them  into  the 
caverns  of  the  lone  and  sullen  genius  of  rabbinical 
Judaism,  cutting  them  off  from  the  great  family  of  man- 
kind, and  perpetuating  their  sorrow  and  their  shame." 

Benjamin  was  placed  at  the  school  of  Rev.  John 
Poticary  at  Blackheath,  where  he  remained  for  several 
years.  That  he  was  the  "  spoiled  darling,"  described  in 
"Vivian  Grey,"  is  doubtless  true.  Vivian,  nearly  ten,  is 
placed  at  the  school  of  Dr.  Flummery.  "  '  I  am  told,  my 
dear,'  observed  Mrs.  Grey,  one  day  after  dinner,  to  her 


^1 


M 


ill 


J 

A 


I 


llil 


ijii 


-il 

!l^  (I! 


i 


31G 


rir£  £:^i2X  of  beacon sfielb. 


husband  —  "  *  I  am  told,  my  dear,  that  Dr.  Flummery's 
would  do  very  well  for  Vivian.  Nothing  can  exoeed  the 
atten+^^ion  which  is  pai  to  the  pupils.  There  are  sixteen 
young  Lidies,  all  the  daughters  of  clergymen,  merely  to 
attend  tc.  the  morals  anc!  the  linen  ;  terms  very  moder- 
ate—  one  hundred  guinea?  per  annum,  for  all  under  six 
years  ol  age,  and  few  extras,  only  for  fencing,  pure 
milk,  and  the  guitar.  IMrs.  Metcalf  has  both  her  boys 
there,  and  she  says  their  progress  is  astouisliing.  .  .  . 
What  do  you  cay  to  FJammery's,  Grey?' 

"  '  ]\ly  dear,  do  what  you  like.  I  never  trouble  myself, 
you  know,  about  these  matters.' 

"  The  young  Vivian  had  not,  by  the  cares  that  fathers 
are  always  heirs  to,  yet  reminded  his  parents  that  boys 
are  anything  else  but  playthings.  The  intercourse  be- 
tween father  and  son  was,  of  course,  extremely  limited  ; 
for  Vivian  was,  as  ;yet,  the  mother's  child;  Mr.  Grey's 
parental  duties  being  confined  to  giving  his  son  a  glass 
of  claret  j)^'  diem,,  pulling  his  ears  with  all  the  awk- 
wardness of  literary  affection,  and  trusting  to  God  '  that 
the  urchin  would  never  scribljle.'  " 

After  some  years  at  the  school,  where  "  sixteen  young 
ladies  attended  to  the  morals  and  the  linen,"  JJenjamin 
was  sent,  at  fifteen,  to  a  school  at  Waltliamstow.  He 
would  have  preferred  Eton,  which  he  has  so  graphically 
described  in  "Coningsby,"  but  his  parents  doubtless 
feared  that  he  would  be  subject  to  ridicule  on  account 
of  his  race,  and  his  lil'e,  })erhaps,  embittered. 

The  trials  of  Contarini  Fleming  at  college  are  doubt- 
less those  of  his  own  life.  '"I  was  placed,"  says  Con- 
tarini, "in  thf  heart  of  a  little  and  a  busy  world.  For 
the  first  tinu'  in  my  life  I  was  surrounded  by  struggling 
and  excited  beings.     fJoy,  hope,  sorrow,  ambition,  craft, 


I 


THE  EARL    OF  BEACOysFIKLl). 


01  7 


I 


courage,  Avit,  dulnoss,  cowardice,  boiioliconcc,  awkward- 
ness, grace,  avarice,  generosity,  wealtli,  poverty,  beauty, 
hideousness,  tyranny,  suffering,  liypocrisy,  truth,  love, 
hatred,  energy,  inertness,  they  were  all  there,  and  all 
sounded,  and  moved  and  acted  about  me. 

"•  Light  laughs,  and  bitter  cries,  and  deep  imprecations, 
and  the  deeds  of  the  friendly,  the  prodigal,  and  the 
tyrant,  and  the  exploits  of  the  brave,  the  graceful,  and 
the  gny,  and  the  flying  words  of  native  wit,  and  the 
pompous  sentences  of  acquired  knowledge  —  how  new, 
how  exciting,  how  wonderful  ! 

"  Did  I  tremble  ?  Did  I  sink  into  my  innermost  self  ? 
Did  I  fly  ?  Xever.  As  I  gazed  upon  them,  a  new  prin- 
ciple rose  up  in  my  lu'east,  and  I  perceived  only  beings 
whom  I  was  determined  to  control.  They  came  up  to 
me  with  a  curious  glance  of  half-sup})ressed  glee,  breath- 
less and  mocking.  They  asked  me  questions  of  gay 
nonsense  with  a  seri'Mis  voice  and  a  solemn  look.  I 
answered  in  their  kind.  On  a  sudden  I  seemed  endowed 
with  new  powers,  and  bl-^ssed  with  the  gift  of  tongues." 

The  fight  at  college,  when  Contarini,  driven  to  mad- 
ness, severely  pounds  the  leader  of  two  hundred  boys, 
is  probably  drawn  from  life. 

Dissatisfied  and  unhappy,  young  Disraeli  left  school, 
and  studied  in  his  father's  library,  for  twelve  hours  a 
day,  as  did  Vivian.  "  He  had  laid  the  first  foundations 
of  accurate  classical  knowledge  under  the  tuition  of  the 
learned  Dallas  ;  and  twelve  hours  a  day,  and  self-banish- 
ment from  society,  overcame,  in  twelve  months,  the 
ill  effects  of  his  imperfect  education.  The  result  of  this 
extraordinary  exertion  may  easily  be  conceived.  At  the 
eiul  of  twelve  months,  Vivian,  like  many  other  young 
enthusiasts,  had  discovered  that  all  the  wit  and  wisdom 


i 


If! 


:       1 


318 


THE  EAUL   OF  liEACOysFIELD. 


of  the  world  were  concentrated  in  some  fifty  antique 
volumes,  and  lie  treated  the  unlucky  moderns  with  th(; 
most  sublime  spirit  of  hauteur  imaginable.  A  chorus  in 
the  INIedea,  that  painted  the  radiant  sky  of  Attica,  dis- 
gusted him  with  the  foggy  atmosphere  of  Great  Britain  ; 
and  while  Mrs.  Grey  was  meditating  ^sejtmrat  Urighton, 
her  son  was  dreaming  of  the  Gulf  of  Salamis." 

The  handsome  lad  had  become  ambitious ;  indeed,  he 
had  been  ambitious  from  his  childhood.  The  grand- 
father's hope,  and  speculative  nature,  were  in  him. 
As  in  the  case  of  Contarini  Fleming,  "the  clouds 
seemed  to  clear  off  from  the  dark  landscape  of  my 
mind,  and  vast  ambition  might  be  distinguished  on  the 
far  horizon,  rearing  its  head  like  a  mighty  column.  My 
energies  stirred  within  me,  and  seemed  to  pant  for  the 
struggle  and  the  strife.  A  deed  was  to  be  done  ;  but 
what  ?  I  entertained  at  this  time  a  deep  conviction  that 
life  must  be  intolerable,  unless  I  were  the  greatest  of 
men.  It  seemed  that  I  felt  within  me  the  power  that 
could  influence  my  kind." 

Isaac  Disraeli,  fearing  that  this  bright  son  might 
become  an  author,  urged  him  to  enter  the  law.  That 
Benjamin  had  no  great  liking  for  it,  is  shown  in  Vivian 
Grey's  experience.  "  In  the  plenitude  of  his  ambition, 
he  stopped  one  day  to  inquire  in  wdiat  manner  he  could 
obtain  his  magnificent  ends.  'The  bar  —  pooh!  law 
and  bad  jokes  till  we  are  forty :  and  then,  with  a  most 
brillinnt  success,  the  prospect  of  gout  and  a  coronet. 
Besides,  to  succeed  as  an  advocate,  I  must  be  a  great 
lawyer,  and  to  be  a  great  lawyer  I  must  give  up  my 
chance  of  being  a  great  man.  The  services  in  war  time 
are  fit  only  for  desperadoes  (and  that  truly  am  I),  but, 
in  peace,  are  fit  only  for   fools.     The  Church  is  more 


THE  EARL   OF 


^OS^FIKLl). 


all) 


great 


rational.  I  should  certainly  like  to  act  Wolsoy,  but 
the  thousand  and  one  chances  are  against  nie ;  and 
truly  I  feel  }nt/  destiny  should  not  l)e  a  chance.'  " 

At  seventeen,  however,  Disraeli  began  the  study  of 
law.  He  was  eager  for  a  career,  but  he  had  to  wait. 
For  three  years  he  studied  faithfully,  probably  with 
very  little  rest  in  it.  He  was  exceedingly  fond  of 
society,  and  met  at  his  father's  table  prominent  men 
like  Wilson  Crokor,  then  Secretary  to  the  Admiralty  ; 
Samuel  Rogers  ;  John  Murray,  proprietor  of  the  Qiuir- 
terhj  Review,  and  others.  He  had  always  been  interested 
in  political  history,  and  now,  when  the  Catholic  question 
and  Reform  were  before  the  people,  he  began  to  write 
on  such  subjects  for  the  press. 

He  was  fortunate  at  this  time,  as  many  a  Raphael 
has  been,  to  have  a  Joanna,  "  Duchess  of  Sora,  and 
Prefectissa  of  Rome,"  for  his  helper  and  adviser.  Mrs. 
Austen,  wife  of  a  prominent  solicitor,  lived  near  the 
Disraeli  home.  She  was  remarkable  in  conversation, 
an  artist,  and  a  musician.  She  stimulated  the  youth, 
invited  him  to  meet  cultivated  persons  in  her  home, 
and  fel ";  that  he  would  be  a  power  in  the  world. 

It  has  been  suggested  that  jNIrs.  Austen  perhaps 
assisted  him  in  writing  his  iirst  book,  ''  Vivian  Grey." 
At  all  events,  the  book,  written  by  this  youth  of  twenty- 
one,  produced  a  great  sensation  in  London  society.  It 
is  a  satire  in  which  well-known  persons  were  graphically 
depicted.  Everybody  read  it,  and  everybody  asked, 
"  Who  is  intended  ? "  Several  keys  were  published, 
and  one  in  1827  ran  through  ten  editions  in  a  year. 

Vivian  Grey  is  young  Disraeli,  who  wishes  to  become 
Prime  ^Minister.  He  has  made  up  his  mind  that  he 
needs  influence  only.     "How  many  a  powerful  noble," 


H 


320 


TlIK  KARL    OF  JiEACONSFIELD. 


liN 


I.    ■  I 


|i 


!-,J 


i 


If 


! 


I 


he  says,  "wants  only  wit  to  be  a  minister!  and  what 
wants  Vivian  Grey  to  attain  the  same  end  ?  That 
noble's  intlnence.  ...  I  have  tlie  mind  for  the  eon- 
ee})tion ;  and  I  can  perform  right  skilfully  upon  the 
most  splendid  of  mu,  ieal  instruments,  —  the  human 
voice,  —  to  make  those  conceptions  beloved  by  others. 
There  wants  but  one  thing  more,  —  courage,  pure,  per- 
fect courage  ;  and  does  Vivian  Grey  know  fear  ?  " 

Vivian  forms  a  political  alliance  with  a  nobleman, 
the  ]\rar(piis  of  Carabas ;  and  to  make  the  new  party 
a  success,  he  wins  to  its  sui)port  an  able  politician, 
Frederick  Cleveland,  who,  finding  himself  betrayed  as 
he  believes,  challenges  Vivian,  and  is  killed  in  the  duel. 

Mrs.  Felix  Lorraine,  or  "  Mephistopheles,  one  or  the 
other,  perhaps  hoth^''  is  an  intriguing  but  fascinating 
woman,  who  professes  to  love  Vivian,  but  deserts  him 
for  Cleveland,  and  is  repaid  by  the  revenge  of  the 
former. 

Vivian  travels  abroad  after  his  political  plans  come 
to  naught,  and  falls  in  love  with  Violet  Fane,  who  dies 
in  his  arms  as  they  sit  together  at  the  twilight  hour. 
"The  sun  had  already  sunk  behind  the  mountains,  whose 
undulating  forms  were  thrown  into  dark  shadow  against 
the  crimson  sky.  The  thin  crescent  of  the  new  moo" 
floated  over  the  eastern  hills,  whose  deep  woods  glowcc 
with  the  rosy  glories  of  twilight.  Over  the  peak  of  a 
purple  mountain  glittered  the  solitary  star  of  evening. 
.  .  .  What  heart  has  not  acknowledged  the  influence  of 
this  hour,  —  the  sweet  and  soothing  hour  of  twilight; 
the  hour  of  love,  the  hour  of  adoration,  the  hour  of  rest ! 
When  we  think  of  those  we  love,  only  to  regret  that 
we  have  not  loved  more  dearlv :  when  we  remember 
our  enemies,  only  to  forgive  them." 


THE  EAllL   OF  UKACOSSFIEIA). 


321 


d  what 
That 
lie   con- 
ion  the 
human 
others, 
ire,  per- 

bleman, 
vv  party 
ilitician, 
ayed  as 
le  dueh 
3  or  the 
cinating 
n-ts  him 
of    the 

ns  come 
^vho  dies 
lit  hour. 
IS,  whose 
'  against 
;w   inoo" 
s  glowiM 
leak  of  a 
evening, 
uence  of 
wilight; 
of  rest ! 
;ret  that 
smember 


The  book  contained  clever  conversations,  sarcasm, 
wit,  and  stirring  incith'uts,  and  made  the  young  author 
famous.  After  it  was  published  he  became  ill,  with 
fits  of  giddiness.  Probably  ho  had  written  it  as  he 
describes  the  writing  of  the  novel  "  ]\Ianstein  "  in 
Contarini  Fleming,  and  had  overtaxed  body  and  brain. 
"  I  began  writing  some  hours  before  noon,  nor  did  I 
ever  cease.  My  thoughts,  my  passion,  the  rush  of  my 
invention,  were  too  quick  for  my  pen.  Page  followed 
page  ;  as  a  sheet  was  finished,  I  threw  it  on  the  floor. 
I  was  amazed  at  the  rapid  and  prolific  production,  yet 
I  could  not  stop  to  wonder.  In  half  a  dozen  hours  I 
sank  back  utterly  exhausted,  with  an  aching  frame. 
I  rang  the  bell,  ordered  some  refreshment,  and  walked 
about  the  room.  ...  I  set  to  again,  and  it  was  midnight 
before  I  retired  to  my  bed." 

The  second  day  he  finished  the  first  volume.  "  The 
third  morning  I  had  less  inclination  to  write.  I  read 
over  and  corrected  what  I  had  composed ;  this  warmed 
up  my  fancy,  and  in  the  afternoon  I  executed  several 
chapters  of  my  second  volume.  ...  In  depicting  the 
scenes  of  society  in  which  my  hero  was  forced  to 
move,  I  suddenly  dashed  not  only  into  the  most  slash- 
ing satire,  but  even  into  malignant  personality.  All 
the  bitterness  of  my  heart,  occasioned  by  my  wretched 
existence  among  their  false  circles,  found  its  full  vent. 
Never  was  anything  so  imprudent.  Everybody  figured, 
and  all  parties  and  opinions  alike  suffered.    .   .   . 

"  The  incidents  were  unnatural,  the  serious  characters 
exaggerations,  the  comic  ones  caricatures ;  the  wit  was 
too  often  fli})pant,  the  philosophy  too  often  forced ;  yet 
the  vigor  was  remarkable,  the  license  of  an  uncurbed 
imagination  not  without  its  charms  ;  and,  on  the  whole, 


Hi 


'  -i 


il 


i! 


mif 


111 


^1  ;     1  ' 
Ml     i 


1 

t!  ii 


li,'  () 


mi  r, 


\i 


. 


!  i 


!^ 


m 


t 


: 


.1 


qo9 


TILE  EARL    OF  BEACON SFIELD. 


there  breathed  a  freshness  whicli  is  rarely  found,  and 
which,  perhaps,  with  all  my  art  and  knowledge,  I  may 
never  again  afford ;  and  indeed  when  I  recall  the  mag- 
nificent enthusiasm,  the  glorious  heat,  with  which  this 
little  work  was  written,  I  am  convinced,  that,  with  all 
its  errors,  the  spark  of  true  creation  animated  its  fiery 
page." 

Young  Disraeli  was  obliged  to  discontinue  tlie  study 
of  law,  and  go  abroad  with  the  Austens.  They  trav- 
elled through  France,  Switzerland,  to  INIilan,  Venice, 
Florence,  and  Geneva,  and  back  into  France.  The 
author  was  somewhat  better,  but  still  an  invalid. 

Meantime,  Isaac  Disraeli  had  moved  away  from  Lon- 
don with  its  libraries,  to  Bradenham,  an  old  manor-house 
in  Buckinghamshire,  two  miles  from  High  Wycombe. 
Here,  in  the  country  air,  the  young  son  grew  stronger 
in  health,  and  was  finally  able  to  write  a  second  part 
to  "Vivian  Grey;"  also  "The  Young  Duke,"  published  in 
1831 ;  and  three  burlesques,  —  "  Ixion  in  Heaven  "  (the 
father  of  the  gods  being  George  IV.),  the  "  Infernal 
Marriage,"  and  "  Popanilla "  (a  satire  on  the  English 
Constitution). 

Bradenham,  which  Disraeli  describes  in  "  Endymion  " 
as  the  place  to  which  Mr.  Ferrars  retired,  was  a  cher- 
ished home  to  them  aU.  "At  the  foot  of  the  Berkshire 
downs,  and  itself  on  a  gentle  elevation,  there  is  an  old 
hall  with  gable  ends  and  lattice  windows,  standing  in 
grounds  which  once  were  stately,  and  where  there  arc; 
yet  glade-like  terraces  of  yew  trees,  whicii  give  an  air 
of  dignit}'  to  a  neglected  scene.  In  the  front  of  the 
hall,  huge  gates  of  iron,  highly  wrought,  and  bearing 
an  ancient  date  as  well  as  the  shield  of  a  noble  house, 
opened  on  a  vill;ig(^  jyri'cii,  round  which  were  clustered 


THE  EAllL    OF  BEACON SFIELT). 


323 


5> 


the  cotti'.ges  of  the  parisli,  with  only  one  exception, 
and  that  was  the  vicarage  house,  a  modern  buikling, 
not  without  taste,  and  surrounded  by  a  small  but  bril- 
liant gar  Jen.  The  church  was  contiguous  to  the  hall, 
and  had  been  raised  by  the  lord  on  a  portion  of  his 
domain. 

"  IJehind  the  hall  and  its  enclosure,  the  country  was 
common  land  but  picturesque.  It  had  once  been  a 
beech  forest,  and  though  the  timber  had  been  gi-eatly 
cleared,  the  green  land  was  still  occasionally  dotted, 
sometimes  with  groups  and  sometimes  v/ith  single  trees, 
while  th3  juniper,  which  here  abounded  and  rose  to  c 
great  height,  gave  a  rich  wildness  to  the  scene,  and 
sustained  its  forest  character." 

Here  at  Bradenham,  with  horses  and  dogs,  the  family 
of  Isaac  Disraeli  lived  in  comfort  and  quiet.  Benjamin'^ 
health  finally  grew  more  impaired.  He  could  not  write 
a  line  wiUiout  effort.  He  desired  to  travel,  especially 
in  the  Holy  Land ;  but  for  some  reason,  probably  finan- 
cial, the  desire  was  not  gratified. 

Again  the  Austens  probably  came  to  his  aid,  for  he 
started  in  June,  1830,  with  a  y<^ung  friend  of  talent 
and  fortune,  William  Meredith,  who  was  engaged  to 
be  married  to  his  only  sister,  Sarah. 

They  went  to  Spain,  where  they  enjoyed  the  hospi- 
tality of  some  distinguished  men,  to  Cyprus,  Jaffa, 
Jerusalem,  and  to  Greece.  Benjamin  writes  bright  let- 
ters to  his  sister  and  mother,  wants  to  hear  "all  about 
Bradenham,  about  dogs  and  horses,  orchards,  gardens ; 
who  calls,  where  you  go,  wlio  my  father  sees  in  London, 
what  is  said.  ^^ever  mind  pid)lic  news :  there  is  no 
place  like  Bradenham,  and  each  moment  I  feel  better 
I  want  to   come   back."      A  vear   after   he   began   his 


h 


^i 


p ' 


h 


l;i 


r 


I  I  ■  1 


I  i 


,1 


sil 


if 


n  h 


U 


- 


324 


rilE  EARL    OF  liEACONSFIELD. 


journey  he  writes  home :  "  How  I  long  to  be  with  Iiim 
[father],  dearest  of  men,  flashing  our  quills  tog-Uier, 
standing  together  in  our  chivalry  as  we  v/ill  do,  now 
that  I  have  got  the  use  of  my  brain  for  the  first  time 
in  my  life." 

The  coming  of  the  two  young  men  was  eagerly 
awaited  at  Bra^....h.ua.  Mr.  jMeredith  and  Sarah  wci-c 
to  be  married  as  soon  as  he  returned.  Just  as  tiU>y 
were  leaving  Alexandria  for  England,  young  IMereditli 
was  attacked  with  small-pox,  and  died  after  a  brief 
illness.  Disraeli  came  home  alone,  with  "inexpressible 
sorrow ;  "  Sarah  Disraeli  was  widowed  in  heart  for  life, 
and  never  acce]'ted  marriage. 

Her  brother  could  not  bring  himself  to  take  up  the 
law  again,  now  that  he  was  restored  to  health.  He 
longed  to  become  a  great  poet,  and  with  this  longing 
in  his  heart,  wrote  the  "  prose  poem "  of  Contarini 
Fleming,  the  mort  beautiful  in  its  descriptions  of  any 
of  his  novels:  the  most  fervid,  and  in  some  respects 
the  best.  As  a  picture  of  a  true  and  lasting  affection 
it  is  rarely  equalled. 

It  was  published  anonymously  in  18.'>2,  and  won 
immediate  success.  "  Goetlie  and  I'eckford,''  says  ^li: 
Disraeli,  "were  impelled  to  communicate  their  unsoli- 
cited opinions  of  it  to  its  anonymous  author,  and  I  have 
since  seen  a  criticism  of  it  by  Heine,  of  wliich  any 
writer  miglit  be  justly  proud."  jNIilman  said  it  was  in 
no  way  inferior  to  "  Childe  Harold." 

The  young  poet,  Contarini,  goes  to  college;  eager  to 
see  Venice,  he  escapes  from  tlie  place  where  he  feels 
that  he  is  learning  nothing,  and  starts  on  his  journey. 
He  meets  a  famous  artist  who  gives  liim  a  book  in 
which  are  the  talismanic  words:  "Be  patient;  cherish 


/ 


THE  EAllL   OF  BEACOSSFIELD. 


825 


v'itli  liim 
;og;'dier, 
do,  now 
irst  time 

eau'erly 

ah   were 

as   tiiey 

Jereclith 

a  brief 
:)ressible 

L 

for  life, 

;  Mp  the 
th.  lie 
longing 
/ontarini 
;  of  any 
respects 
iffection 

id  won 
ays  ]Nri-. 

nnsjli- 

I  have 

(;h    any 

was  m 

'ager  to 
le  feels 
ourney. 
)ook  in 
cherish 


hope ;  read  more ;  ponder  less.  Nature  is  more  power- 
ful than  education  ;  time  will  develop  everything;  trust 
not  overmuch  in  the  blessed  ]\ragdalen  ;  learn  to  protect 
yourself." 

Tie  ^vrites  a  tragedy ;  but  somewhat  discouraged  by 
his  father,  who  acknowledges  that  his  son  may  become 
a  Homer,  but  that  it  is  "perhaps  the  most  improbable 
incident  that  can  occur,"  he  consigns  it  to  the  flames. 
"  The  high  poetic  talent,"  says  Baron  Pleming,  the 
father,  —  "  as  if  to  prove  that  a  poet  is  only,  at  the  best, 
a  mild,  although  a  beautiful  error  of  nature,  —  the  high 
poetic  talent  is  the  rarest  in  creation." 

He  arrives  in  Venice,  meets  and  loves  one  of  his  own 
ancient  house,  Alceste  Contarini,  who  is  promised  to  a 
man  whom  she  does  not  love.  The  poet  offers  her  liis 
life-long  devotion. 

"  I  am  young,  Alceste,  the  shadow  of  my  mind  has 
not  yet  fjdlen  over  the  earth.  Yet  there  is  that  within 
me,  —  and  at  this  moment  I  prophesy,  —  there  is  that 
within  me  which  may  yet  mould  the  mind  and  fortunes 
of  my  race ;  and  of  this  heart,  capable  of  these  things, 
the  fountains  are  open,  Alceste,  and  they  flow  for  you." 

He  rescued  her  from  lier  approaching  marriage  of  the 
hand  and  not  the  heart,  married  her,  and  took  her  at 
once  to  Greece.  Here  they  enjoyed  each  other  and 
nature.  They  walked  at  sunset.  "  A  Grecian  sunset ! 
The  sky  is  like  the  neck  of  a  dove,  the  rocks  and  watei'S 
are  bathed  with  a  violet  light.  Each  moment  it  changes, 
each  moment  it  shifts  into  more  graceful  and  more 
gleaming  shadows.  And  the  thin,  white  moon  is  above 
all,  the  thin,  white  moon,  followed  by  a  single  star  — 
like  a  lady  by  a  page. 

''  I  could  have  lived  with  Alceste  Oontariui  iu  a  soli- 


II 


ii 


'■W. 


i!il 


/ 


S26 


THE  EARL   OF  nKACONSFIKLD. 


i 


I)  1 1 


tude  forever.  I  desired  nothing  more  than  to  enjoy 
existence  with  such  a  companion.  I  woiikl  have  com- 
municated to  lier  all  my  thoughts  and  feelings.  I  would 
have  devoted  to  her  solitary  ear  the  poetry  of  my  being. 
Such  a  life  might  not  suit  others.  Others,  influenced  by 
a  passion  not  less  ardent,  may  find  its  flame  fed  by  the 
cares  of  life,  cherished  by  its  duties  and  pleasures,  and 
flourishing  amid  the  travail  of  society.  All  is  an  affair 
of  organization.  .  .  . 

"We  had  no  books,  no  single  source  of  amusement 
but  our  own  society,  and  yet  the  day  always  appeared 
a  moment.  .  .  .  Talk  of  fame  and  romance  —  all  the 
glory  and  adventure  in  the  world  are  not  worth  one 
single  hour  of  domestic  bliss  !  " 

A  year  after,  Contarini  is  walking  by  the  sea,  having 
left  her  at  home  for  a  brief  time.  Suddenly  he  sees  her 
coming  towards  him  on  the  sands.  Pie  hurries  to  meet 
her,  but  clasps  only  vacancy.  She  is  dead  at  home,  with 
her  dead  infant  just  born. 

He  quits  Greece ;  he  travels,  he  writes,  but  life  is 
never  the  same. 

Disraeli  now  wrote  a  poem  called  "  The  Revolutionary 
Epic,"  and  read  it  at  a  party  at  jNIrs.  Austini's.  ]\ragros, 
the  genius  of  Feudalism,  and  Lyridon,  the  genius  of 
Federalism,  plead  tlioir  cause.  The  one  tells  the  virtues 
of  the  former,  the  other  the  virtues  of  the  latter  :  liberty, 
fraternity,  and  equality.  The  poem  concludes  with  the 
conquest  of  Italy  by  Napoleon.  He  wrote  three  cantos, 
and  fifty  co})ies  were  primed.  The  public  was  indifferent 
to  the  poem,  and  it  was  never  finished. 

"The  Wondrous  Tale  of  Alroy,"  an  Oriental  fiction, 
was  published  in  IS.'],*}.  Alroy  obtains  by  supernatm-al 
assistance   the    s('('[)tre  of    Iviii;;  Solomon,  and   leads  a 


I 


to  enjoy 
ive  com- 
I  would 
ly  being. 
Bnced  by 
d  by  the 
ires,  and 
an  affiiir 

usement 
ippeared 
-  all  the 
•rth   one 

-,  having 
sees  her 
to  meet 
me,  with 

b   life  is 

Litionary 
]\ragi'os, 
onius  of 
;  virtues 
liberty, 
v'ith  the 
;  cantos, 
lifferent 

fiction, 

riuitural 

leads  a 


n 


THE  EARL   OF  BEACON SFIELI). 


327 


most  adventurous  life  as  the  sovereign  of  the  Hebrew 
race.  The  book  was  well  received,  and  considered  highly 
original  and  rich  in  description.  INIrs.  Jameson  said, 
"  reading  it  was  like  riding  an  Arab." 

Disraeli  was  now  thirty-one  years  of  age,  handsome, 
travelled,  ambitious,  and  a  brilliant  talker.  The  salons 
of  the  great  in  London  were  open  to  him.  Bulwer  and 
Tom  Moore  and  Lady  Morgan  and  Lady  Blessington  all 
made  him  welcome.  N.  P.  Willis,  the  American,  met 
him  p.t  the  house  of  the  latter.  "  I  dined,"  he  says,  "  at 
Lady  Blessington's,  in  company  with  several  authors, 
three  or  four  noblemen,  and  an  exquisite  or  two.  The 
authors  were  Bulwer  the  novelist,  and  his  brother,  tlie 
statist;  Procter  (better  known  as  Barry  Cornwall); 
Disraeli,  the  author  of  '  Vivian  Grey,'  and  Fonblanque, 
of  the  Examiner.  The  principal  nobleman  was  the  Earl 
of  Durham,  and  the  principal  exquisite  (though  the 
word  scarcely  applies  to  the  magnificent  scale  on  which 
nature  made  him,  and  on  which  he  made  himself)  was 
Count  d'Orsay.  [The  Count  was  the  son-in-law  of  the 
great  beauty  Lady  Blessington.  His  wife  had  separated 
from  him  after  two  years  of  marriage,  and  he  had 
remained  in  the  home  of  her  stepmother.] 

"  Disraeli  had  arrived  before  me,  and  sat  in  the  deep 
window  looking  out  upon  Hyde  Park,  with  the  last  r;i\  s 
of  daylight  reflected  from  the  gorgeous  gold  flowers  of 
a  splendidly  embroidered  waistcoat. 

"  Disraeli  has  one  of  the  most  remarkable  faces  I  ever 
saw.  He  is  lividly  jjale,  and  but  for  the  energy  of  his 
action  and  the  strength  of  his  lungs,  would  seem  a  victim 
to  consumption.  His  eye  is  as  black  as  Erebus,  and  has 
the  most  mocking,  lying-in-wait  sort  of  expression  con- 
ceivable.    His  mouth  is  alive  with  a  kind  of  working 


j 


328 


TJIE  EARL   OF  liEACOySFlELl). 


mm 


\\~      M 


:i     !! 


ii    t 


and  impatient  nervousness,  and  when  lie  bursts  forth,  as 
he  does  constantly,  with  a  partially  successrul  cataract 
of  expression,  it  assumes  a  curl  of  triumphant  scorn 
that  would  be  worthy  of  INIephistopheles.  His  hair  is 
as  extraordinaiy  as  his  taste  in  waistcoats.  A  thick, 
heavy  mass  of  jet-black  ringlets  falls  over  his  left  cheek 
almost  to  his  collarless  stock,  while  on  the  right  temple 
it  is  parted  and  put  away  with  the  smooth  carelessness 
of  a  girl's." 

AVhen  Disraeli  describes  Beck  ford,  the  friend  of  Byron, 
Willis  says :  "  I  might  as  well  attempt  to  gather  up  the 
foam  of  the  sea  as  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  extraordinary 
language  in  which  he  clothed  his  description.  There 
were,  at  least,  five  words  in  ever}?  sentence  that  must 
have  been  very  much  astonished  at  the  use  they  were 
put  to,  and  yet  no  others,  apparently,  could  so  well  have 
conveyed  his  idea.  Disraeli  talked  like  a  race-horse 
approaching  the  winning-post,  every  muscle  in  action, 
and  the  utmost  energy  of  expression  flung  out  in  every 
burst.     It  is  a  gi-eat  pity  he  is  not  in  Parliament." 

In  June,  1832,  Disraeli  offered  himself  as  a  candidate 
to  the  electors  of  High  Wycombe,  as  a  Iladical,  in  favor 
of  the  ballot  and  triennial  Parliaments.  Bulwer  worked 
for  him,  and  procured  commendatory  letters  from 
O'Connell,  Hume,  and  others.  Prime  Minister  Gray's 
son  was  the  opposing  candidate. 

Disraeli  appeared  among  his  constituents  in  an  open 
carriage  drawn  by  four  horses,  dressed  in  his  usual 
fantastic  manner,  to  attract  attention  :  loud  shirt,  coat 
with  pink  lining,  etc.  He  made  a  brilliant  im.promptu 
speech.  "  All  Wycombe  was  assembled,"  he  said  after- 
wards. "  Feeling  it  was  the  crisis,  I  jumped  upon  the 
portico  of  the  ^Iled  Lion,'  and  gave   it  to    \em  for  an 


TUE  EARL   OF  BEACOy SFIEU). 


hour  and  a  quarter.  I  can  give  you  no  idea  of  the  effect. 
It  made  them  all  mac'.  A  great  many  absolutely  cried. 
I  never  made  so  many  frienc^  i  in  my  life,  and  converted 
so  many  enemies.  All  the  »vomen  are  on  my  side,  and 
wear  my  colors,  pink  and  w)iite." 

He  failed,  but  he  was  not  disheartened.  In  the 
autumn  he  offered  himself  a  second  time.  He  said  to  his 
audience:  "  I  come  before  you  to  oppose  this  disgusting 
system  of  factions ;  I  come  forward  wearing  the  badge 
of  no  party  and  the  livery  of  no  faction.  ...  I  will 
withhold  my  support  from   every  ministry  wdiich  will 


not   originate 


some   great   measure   to   ameliorate   the 


condition  of  the  lower  orders."  He  failed  a  second 
time. 

Hearing  that  a  vacancy  was  expected  at  INIarylebone, 
he  offered  himself  there.  He  w\as  asked  on  what  he 
intended  to  stand.  With  his  usual  independence  he 
replied,  "  On  my  head.'* 

The  Duke  of  Wellington  had  become  interested  in 
him,  and  said,  "  Something  must  be  done  for  Disraeli, 
a>s  a  man  of  his  acquirements  and  reputation  must  not 
be  tlirown  away."  D'Orsay  painted  his  picture.  Lord 
Lyndhurst  was  his  friend  and  helper. 

"Peel  was  most  gracious,"  he  wrote  his  sister.  "He 
is  a  very  great  man  indeed,  and  they  all  seem  afraid  of 
liim.  ...  I  reminded  him  by  my  dignified  familiarity 
both  that  he  was  an  ex-minister,  and  I  a  present 
Radical." 

He  next  tried  Taunton,  and  failed.  If  he  was  ever 
for  a  moment  discouraged,  he  did  not  acknowledge  it 
even  to  himself.  He  knew  tljat  he  had  little  money,  and 
worst  of  all,  his  race  was  a  decided  objection.  He  was 
a  Jew,  and  he  must  have  felt  it  keenly,  as  his  grand- 


!■'! 


330 


THE  KAJIL   OF  BEACON SFIKLD. 


If. 


\  1 


i 


mother  had  before  liim.  TUit  lie  had  "the  courage,  pure, 
perfect  courage/"  that  he  had  said  in  "Vivian  Grey  "  was 
the  one  thing  needed. 

He  wrote  to  his  sister  Sarah :  "  As  for  Taunton  itself, 
the  enthusiasm  of  Wycombe  is  a  miniature  ^o  it;  and  I 
believe:  in  point  of  energy,  eloquence,  and  effect,  I  have 
far  exce-  led  all  my  former  efforts." 

Three  days  later  he  wrote :  "  I  live  in  a  rage  of 
enthusiasm ;  even  my  opponents  promise  to  vote  for  me 
next  time.  The  fatigue  is  awful.  Two  long  speeches 
to-day  and  nine  hours  canvass  on  foot  in  a  blaze  of 
repartee.  I  am  quite  exhausted,  and  can  scarcely  see  to 
write."  Busy  as  he  was,  he  did  not  forget  to  write  to 
his  sister.  "  My  letters  are  shorter  than  Napoleon's," 
he  writes,  "but  I  love  you  more  than  he  did  Josei)hine." 

In  one  of  his  speeches,  Disraeli  liad  spoken  of  the 
Whigs  "grasping  the  bloody  hand  of  O'Connell."  The 
latter  read  the  speech,  and,  in  an  address  in  Dublin,  told 
how  he  had  helped  this  young  politician  at  Wycombe, 
and  been  thus  rewarded. 

"  He  calls  me  a  t-aitor,"  said  O'Connell.  "  ]\ry  answer 
to  this  is,  he  is  a  lia^'.  His  life  is  a  living  lie.  He  is 
the  most  degraded  of  his  species  and  kind,  and  England 
is  degraded  in  tolerating  and  having  on  the  face  of  her 
society  a  miscreant  of  his  abominable,  foul  and  atro- 
cious nature.  His  nan^e  shows  that  he  is  by  descent  a 
Jew.     They  were  once  the  chosen  people  of  God. 

"There  were  miscreants  amongst  them,  however,  alas  ! 
and  it  must  certainly  have  been  from  one  of  those  that 
Disraeli  descended.  He  possesses  just  the  qualities  of 
the  impenitent  thief  that  died  upon  the  cross,  whose 
name  T  verilv  believe  must  hav(»  been  Disraeli.  I^^or 
aught   1   hnow,  the  ])r('s<'nt    Disraeli  is    descended  from 


s,^o,  pure, 


J) 


ey     was 

•11  itself, 

;  and  I 

,  I  have 

rage   of 

I  for  me 

peeclies 

blaze  of 

y  see  to 

^vrite  to 

)leoii's," 

;})liine." 

of   the 

"     The 

lin,  told 

yconibe, 

'  answer 
He  is 

Kng'laiid 
'  of  licr 
id  atro- 
'scent  a 

:'i',  alas  ! 
)se  that 
iities  of 
,  whose 
li.  For 
ad  from 


THE  EAIiL   OF  BEACON SFIELB. 


331 


him ;  and  with  the  impression  that  he  is,  T  now  forgive 
the  lieir-at-law  of  the  blasphemous  thief  that  died  upon 
the  cross." 

Of  course  Disraeli  was  angry.  He  challenged  the  son 
of  O'Connell,  —  the  father,  having  killed  one  man  in  a 
duel,  had  made  a  vow  that  he  would  ne-  ,r  light  again, — 
but  the  son,  having  fought  one  duel  for  his  father, 
declined  to  fight  another.  As  soon  as  the  affair  was 
known,  Disraeli  was  taken  into  custody  by  the  police,  and 
made  to  give  £500  bonds  to  keep  the  peace.  Disraeli 
wrote  a  stinging  reply  to  O'Connell  in  the  Times.:  — 

"  I  am  not  one  of  those  public  beggars  that  we  see 
swarming  with  their  obtrusive  boxes  in  the  chapels  of 
your  creed,  nor  am  I  in  possession  of  a  princely  revenue 
arising  from  a  starving  race  of  fanatical  slaves.  Never- 
theless, I  have  a  deep  conviction  that  the  hour  is  at 
hand  when  I  shall  be  more  successful,  and  take  ray 
place  in  that  proud  asseml)ly  of  which  j\Ir.  O'Connell 
avows  his  wish  no  longer  to  be  a  member. 

"  I  expect  to  be  a  representative  of  the  people  before 
the  repeal  of  the  union.  We  shall  meet  again  at 
Philippi  [House  of  Commons],  and  rest  assured  that, 
confident  in  a  good  cause,  and  in  some  energies  which 
have  not  been  altogether  unimproved,  I  will  seize  the 
first  opportunity  of  inflicting  upon  you  a  castigation 
which  will  make  you  at  the  same  time  remember  and 
repent  the  insults  that  you  have  lavished  upon 

"Benjamin  Disraeli." 

Disraeli  was  now  badly  in  debt  for  election  and  other 
expenses.  He  had  borrowed  also  to  give  to  some  of  his 
impecunious  friends  in  high  soinal  standing.     A  sheriff's 


832 


THE  EAIiL   OF  HKACONSFIKLl). 


Ih    ii 


I       . 


officer  had  boon  sent  at  least  once  to  arrest  liim  for  debt. 
Georg  ]>randes,  in  his  scliolarly  study  of  Lord  Jieacous- 
field  says,  "He  offered  liiiuself  for  Shrcwslniry,  and  a 
statement,  pul)lished  on  tliis  occasion  by  his  opponents, 
shows  that  during  the  years  from  18.'>S  to  1841  alone, 
there  were  fifteen  different  claims  laid  upon  him  for 
debts,  for  sums  varying  from  twenty  jujunds  to  seven 
lumdred  pounds,  and  amounting  altogether  to  twenty 
thousand  pounds." 

These  debts  must  have  harassed  him  greatly,  for  he 
was  not  insensible  to  such  obligations.  He  says  in 
"  Henrietta  Temple,"  which  was  published  in  I806,  and 
was  written  in  the  midst  of  these  calls  for  money : 
"  Debt  is  the  prolific  mother  of  folly  and  crime  ;  it  taints 
the  course  of  life  in  all  its  dreams.  Hence  so  many 
unhap})y  marriages,  so  many  prostituted  pens,  and  venal 
politicians.  It  hath  a  small  beginning,  but  a  giant's 
growth  and  strength.  When  we  wake  the  monster,  we 
wake  our  master,  who  haunts  us  nt  all  hours,  and  shakes 
his  whip  of  scorpions  forever  in  our  sight.  Tlie  slave 
hath  no  overseer  so  severe.  Faustus,  when  he  signed 
the  bond  with  blood,  did  not  secure  a  doom  more 
terrific." 

Later,  in  his  no"'  el  "  Sybil,"  when  a  rich  marriage  had 
overcome  his  poverty,  Disraeli  had  not  forgotten  the 
liorrors  of  debt.  "  To  be  harassed  about  money,"  he 
says,  -'is  one  of  the  most  disagreeable  incidents  of  life. 
It  ruffles  the  temper,  lowers  thg  spirits,  disturbs  the 
rest,  and  finally  breaks  up  the  health." 

During  these  years  of  pecuniary  distress,  Disraeli 
wrote,  besides  "Henrietta  Temple,"  —  "  Venetia,"  pub- 
lished in  1837,  and  dedicated  to  Lord  Lyndhurst,  in 
which,  he  said   in  tli(>  preface,  he  "had  attempted  to 


I    V 


THE  EARL   OF  nEACOXsFIELD. 


333 


shadow  forth  two  of  tlie  most   renowned   and   refined 
spirits  that  have  adorned  these  our  Latter  (hiys." 

These  two  were  Byron  and  SheUey. 

He  had  also  written  several  political  pamphlets: 
"The  Crisis  Examined,"  in  1834 ;  ''The  Vindication  of 
the  British  Constitution,"  in  1835;  and  "The  Letters  of 
Kunnymede,"  in  1836.  The  latter,  nineteen  in  number, 
addressed  to  Sir  Robert  Peel  and  other  members  of  the 
Government,  caused  a  decided  sensation.  He  wrote  his 
sister:  'The  Letters  of  Runnymede  are  the  only  things 
talked  of  in  London,  especially  the  latter  ones.  The 
author  is  unknown,  and  wiP.  prol)ably  so  remain." 

He  also  wrote  her :  "  On  Tuesdn.y  I  dined  at  Lynd- 
hurst's  and  met  Lord  Roden,  .  .  .  and  Loekhart,  whom 
Lyndhurst  asked  that  he  [Loekhart]  might  review  the 
'Vindication.'  Chance!  he  never  spoke  a  word.  Ho  is 
known  in  society  by  the  name  of  '  The  Viper ; '  but  if  he 
tries  to  sting  me  he  will  find  my  lieel  of  iron." 

Matters  were  now  to  change  for  Disraeli.  At  the 
house  of  Bulwer,  in  1832,  he  writes  his  sister :  "  I  was 
introduced  '  by  particular  desire '  to  Mrs.  Wyndham 
Lewis,  a  pretty  little  woman,  a  flirt,  and  a  rattle ;  indeed, 
gifted  with  a  volubility  I  should  think  unequalled,  and 
of  which  I  can  convey  no  idea.  She  told  me  that  she 
liked  '  silent,  melancholy  men.'  I  answered  '  that  I  had 
no  doubt  of  it.'  " 

Probably  Disraeli  was  pleased  with  ]\[rs.  Lewis's  in- 
terest. He  says  in  "  Coningsby,"  "  There  is  something 
very  fascinating  in  the  first  idea  that  your  career  inter- 
ests a  charming  woman.  ...  A  woman  who  likes  ambi- 
tious men  must  be  no  ordinary  character  ;  clearly  a  sort 
of  heroinn." 

Mr.  Lewis  was  a  rich  member  of  Parliament  for  INIaid- 


■  *'« 


1 


!' 


!■; 


j  r 


ill 

1  19 


f  ! 


f 

834 


tup:  earl  of  ueaconsfikld 


stone.  Disraeli's  friendship  with  the  Lewis  family  had 
d.eei")ened  thron<jjh  these  five  years.  The  death  of  Wil- 
liam IV.,  in  18.'>7,  dissolved  Parliament,  and  on  Jnly  27 
of  the  same  year,  ^Iv.  Disraeli  was  returned  for  Maid- 
stone, as  tlie  colleague  of  Mr.  Wyndham  Lewis,  and 
at  his  request.  The  friendship  "  of  the  pretty  little 
woman,  a  liirt,  and  a  rattle,"  had  done  much,  and  was 
to  do  far  more,  for  the  young  author. 

Disraeli  had  at  last  won  the  coveted  prize,  and 
Kovember  15,  1837,  took  his  sent  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, on  the  second  bench,  just  behind  Sir  Robert  Peel. 
Queen  Victoria  had  come  to  the  throne,  and  to  her  he 
was  ever  a  most  devoted  subject. 

He  made  his  first  speech  December  7,  1837,  on  a 
debate  relating  to  the  Irish  fund.  ''  His  appearance," 
says  Fronde,  ''  was  theatrical  as  usual.  He  was  dressed 
in  a  bottle-green  frock-coat,  with  a  white  waistcoat, 
collarless,  and  with  needless  display  of  gold  chain. 
His  face  was  lividly  pale,  his  voice  and  manner  pecu- 
liar. He  began  naturally  and  sensibly,  keei)ing  to  the 
point  of  the  debate.  He  was  cheered  by  his  own  side, 
and  might  have  got  through  tolerably  enough  ;  but  the 
gentlemen  below  the  gangway  had  determined  that  his 
l^hilippi  should  not  end  in  a  victory," 

Every  sentence  was  received  with  cheers  and  laughter. 
"  I  shall  not  trouble  the  House  at  any  length."  (Hear, 
hear !  and  laughter.)  '•  I  do  not  affect  to  be  insensible 
to  the  difficulty  of  my  position."     (Renewed  laughter.) 

When  the  tumult  was  the  wildest,  he  said,  "  I  wish 
I  reall}^  could  induce  the  House  to  give  me  five  minutes 
more.  "  (Roars  of  laughter.)  ..."  I  am  not  at  all  sur- 
prised, sir,  at  the  reception  I  have  met  with."  (Con- 
tinued laughter.)     "  I  have  begun  several  times,  many 


'iM; 


THE  EAJiL   OF  liEACOySFIELD. 


3:^0 


Lear, 


tilings,  and  have  often  succeeded  at  last.''  (Question.) 
"  Ay,  sir,  I  will  sit  down  now,  but  the  time  will  come 
when  you  will  hear  me." 

How  little  they  su])posed  that  the  defeated  Jew 
would  become  their  Prime  Minister,  and  that  they 
would  indeed  "hear  him"  and  be  governed  by  him! 

Disraeli  bore  the  defeat  cahnly.  He  wrote  to  his 
"Dearest,"  his  sister:  "I  state  at  once  that  my  debut 
was  a  failure  —  not  by  my  breaking  down,  or  incompe- 
tency on  my  part,  but  from  the  physical  power  of  my 
adversaries.  I  can  give  you  no  idea  how  bitter,  how 
factious,  how  unfair,  they  were.  It  was  like  my  first 
dt'lnif  at  A.ylesbury,  and  perhaps  in  that  sense  may  be 
auspicious  of  ultimate  trium})h  in  the  l  -.me  scene.  I 
fought  througli  all  with  undaunted  pluck  and  unruffled 
temper.  .  .  .  Yours,  D.,  in  very  good  spirits." 

Shiel,  though  an  Irish  leader,  would  not  join  the 
clubs  in  their  delight  in  Disraeli's  failure.  "  I  tell 
you  this,"  he  said :  "  if  ever  the  spirit  of  oratory  was 
in  a  man,  it  is  that  man.  Nothing  can  prevent  him 
from  being  one  of  the  first  speakers  of  the  House  of 
Commons." 

He  said  to  Disraeli  afterwards,  at  dinner  at  Bulwer's  : 
"  Now  get  rid  of  your  genius  for  a  session.  Speak 
often,  for  you  must  not  show  yourself  cowed,  but  speak 
shortly.  Be  very  quiet,  try  to  be  dull,  only  argue  and 
reason  imperfectly.  Astonish  them  by  speaking  on 
subjects  of  detail.  Quote  figures,  dates,  calculations, 
and  in  a  short  time  the  House  wdll  sigh  for  the  wit 
and  eloquence  which  they  all  know  are  in  you;  they 
will  encourage  you  to  pour  them  forth,  and  then  you 
will  have  the  ear  of  the  House,  and  be  a  favorite." 

A  week  later  he  spoke  on  the  Copj'riglit  Bill,  and  was 


it!) 


tiJ 


s 


m 


; 


I 


i 


JiM! 


.*>bi 


336 


THE  EAliL   OF  IlEACONSFIELD. 


listened  to.  All  supposed  he  would  allude  to  his  former 
treatment,  but  he  did  not  speak  of  it.  From  that  time 
on,  he  never  wanted  for  a  respectful  audience. 

On  July  12, 1839,  Disraeli  made  an  able  speech  on 
the  Chartist  Petition,  presented  to  Parliament  by  Mr. 
Attvrood,  member  for  Birmingham,  and  demanding  man- 
hood suffrage,  vote  by  ballot,  electoral  districts,  annual 
Parliaments,  and  payment  of  members;  the  latter,  so 
tliat  those  who  were  not  rich  might  be  able  to  sit  in  the 
House  and  still  provide  support  for  their  families. 

The  petition  had  more  than  a  million  signatures, 
and  was  brought  into  the  House  on  a  special  machine, 
necessary  for  carrying  such  a  mass  of  paper.  Many 
who  signed  believed  that  a  People's  Charter  would 
bring  about  better  times,  better  food  and  wages.  At 
least  the  poor  and  the  workingmen  wished  to  be  repre- 
sented, and  knew  that  their  cause  was  just.  Educated 
and  prominent  men  were  also  engaged  in  the  reform. 

Legislators  are  not  always  wise  in  their  generation, 
and  are  sometimes  obliged  to  give  place  to  those  who 
are  willing  to  think  about  the  wrongs  of  a  people. 
They  paid  no  attention  to  the  petition,  and  soon  riots 
and  bloodshed  resulted.  The  leaders  of  the  Chartists 
were  imprisoned  and  treated  with  great  severity. 

Lord  John  Russell,  then  War  Secretary,  asked  for  an 
increase  of  the  police.  Disraeli  was  one  of  a  minority 
of  five  v/ho  dared  to  oppose  the  request.  He  defended 
those  who  were  severely  treated,  and  was  called,  in 
consequence,  "  an  advocate  of  riot  and  disorder."  He 
did  not  accept  in  full  the  provisions  of  the  charter,  but 
he  had  great  sympatliy  with  the  Chartists.  Two  years 
later,  angered  at  the  treatment  which  they  had  received 
from  the  Whigs,  the  Chartists  assisted  in  the  downfall 


THE  EARL   OF  liEACONSFIELI). 


33T 


liis  former 
that  time 

speech  on 
lit  by  Mr. 

iding  man- 
its,  annual 

latter,  so 
sit  in  the 
lies. 

signatures, 
I  machine, 
er.  Many 
ter  would 
Images.  At 
3  be  repre- 

Educated 
reform, 
generation, 
those  who 

a  people, 
soon  riots 

Chartists 

ked  for  an 
1  minority 
3  defendtul 
called,  in 
dcr."  He 
larter,  but 
Two  years 
d  received 
downfall 


i:?i 


of  the  Melbourne  Ministry.  Disraeli  was  able  to  show 
later  by  his  novel  "Sybil,"  and  the  Eeform  r,ill  of  18G7, 
that  his  expressions  of  sympathy  were  sincere. 

This  year,  1839,  brought  a  great  change  in  Disraeli's 
life.  Mr.  Wyndham  Lewis  died  March  14,  1838,  and 
August  28  of  the  year  following  ]\[r.  Disraeli  married 
his  widow.  She  was  not  beautiful,  but  was  extremely 
intelligent,  and  was  his  senior  by  nearly  fifteen  years, 
he  thirty-five  and  she  nearly  fifty.  She  had  no  children. 
She  was  the  owner  of  a  home  at  Grosvenor  Gate,  with  a 
life  income  of  several  thousand  pounds.  Mr.  Disraeli's 
liabilities  were  at  once  cancelled,  and  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life  he  must  have  felt  himself  free  to  work,  to 
write,  to  live,  without  the  thraldom  of  debt. 

Mr.  Fronde  says :  "  She  was  a  heroine,  if  ever  woman 
deserved  the  name.  She  devoted  herself  to  Disraeli 
with  a  completeness  which  left  no  room  in  her  mind  for 
any  other  thought.  As  to  him,  he  said  that  he  would 
never  marry  for  love.  But  if  love,  in  the  common 
sense  of  the  word,  did  not  exist  between  these  two, 
there  was  an  affection  which  stood  the  trials  of  thirty 
years,  and  deepened  only  as  they  both  declined  into  age. 

"  She  was  his  helpmate,  his  confidante,  his  adviser : 
from  the  first,  he  felt  the  extent  of  his  obligations  to 
her ;  but  the  sense  of  obligation,  if  at  first  felt  as  a  duty, 
became  a  bond  of  friendship  perpetually  renewed.  The 
hours  spent  with  his  wife  in  retirement  were  the  hap- 
piest that  he  knew.  In  defeat  or  victory  he  hurried 
home  from  the  House  of  Commons  to  share  his  vexation 
or  his  triumph  with  his  companion,  who  never  believed 
that  he  could  fail.  The  moment  in  his  whole  life  which 
perhaps  gave  him  greatest  delight,  was  that  at  which  he 
was  able  to  decorate  her  with  a  peerage." 


HI 


■■  I:- 


\ 


338 


TUB  EARL   OF  BEACON SFIELD. 


h  W 


He  was  proud  as  well  as  grateful  for  lier  affection. 
He  had  said  in  "  Vivian  Grey,"  "  To  be  loved  by  any 
woman  is  flattering  to  the  feelings  of  every  man,  no 
matter  how  deeply  he  may  have  quaffed  the  bitter 
goblet  of  worldly  knowledge." 

He  dedicated  "  Sybil "  to  her,  six  years  after  their 
marriage,  in  these  words  :  "  I  would  inscribe  this  work 
to  one  whose  noble  sj^irit  and  gentle  nature  ever  prompt 
her  to  sympathize  with  the  suffering;  to  one  whose  sweet 
voice  has  often  encouraged,  and  whose  taste  and  judg- 
ment have  ever  guided  its  pages ;  the  most  severe  of 
critics,  but  a  perfect  wife." 

"  A  party  of  young  men  once  ventured,"  says  Froude, 
"a  foolish  jest  or  two  at  jMrs.  Disraeli's  age  and  appear- 
ance, and  rallied  him  on  the  motives  of  his  marriage. 
*  Gentlemen,'  said  Disraeli,  as  he  rose  and  left  the  room, 
'  do  none  of  you  know  what  gratitude  means  ? '  This 
was  the  only  known  instance  in  which  he  ever  spoke 
with  genuine  anger." 

Disraeli  did  not  buy  his  beautiful  country  home, 
Hughenden,  near  Bradenham,  till  1843  "  Here,"  says 
T.  E.  Kebbel,  "Lady  Beaconsfield,  during  her  lifetime, 
was  the  brightest  of  hostesses  ;  and  to  walk  with  her 
in  the  surrounding  woods,  and  hear  her  discourse  about 
ii.v  husband  —  it  is  neadlesG  to  say  her  favorite  topic  — 
was  a  treat  not  soon  to  be  forgotten.  She  was  particu- 
larly fond  of  telling  how,  after  a  capital  division  in  the 
House  of  Commons  in  18G7,  he  refused  an  invitation  to 
supper  at  the  Carlton,  that  he  might  carry  the  good 
news  to  Grosvenor  Gate  without  delay.  '  Dizzy  came 
home  to  me,'  she  used  to  say  with  a  triumphant  air. 

"His  domestic  life,  there  is  every  reason  to  sunnnse, 
was  one  of  unclouded  happiness,  and  due  in  great  part 


THE  EARL   OF  BEACON SFIELD. 


389 


affection. 

d  by  any 

man,  no 

he   bitter 

Pter  their 
shis  work 
ir  prompt 
ose  sweet 
ind  judg- 
severe  of 

5  Froudo, 
I  appear- 
marriage. 
blie  room, 
? '  This 
er  spoke 


y  home, 

i"  says 

lifetime, 

with  her 

se  about 

topic  — 

particii- 

n\  in  the 

tation  to 

he  good 

zy  came 

air. 

sunpnse, 
eat  part 


to  Lady  Beaconsfield's  exertions   of  general   cheerful- 


ness 


J) 


The  story  of  her  self-control  has  been  often  told. 
Going  with  her  husband  to  the  House  of  Commons,  as 
was  her  custom,  as  she  entered  the  carriage  the  door 
shut  upon  her  fingers,  holding  and  nearly  crushing  them. 
Disraeli  was  deep  in  thought  over  a  speech  to  be  made. 
Without  uttering  a  sound,  she  allowed  her  fingers  to 
remain  in  the  door  till  they  arrived ;  and  she  entered  the 
ladies'  gallery,  and  made  no  mention  of  the  dreadful 
pain,  till  the  speech  was  over,  and  they  were  on  their 
way  home. 

Disraeli  was  never  afraid  or  ashamed  to  praise  his 
wife.  When  he  became  Lord  Rector  of  a  great  univer- 
sity, he  told  the  students,  that  if  he  had  risen  high  in 
the  councils  of  the  nation,  he  had  Mrs.  Disraeli  to  thank 
for  it.  He  never  hesitated  to  have  it  known  that  she 
read  over  his  speeches  with  him,  and  counselled  him  on 
all  important  political  matters.  Strong  men  are  never 
afraid  to  be  advised  or  guided  by  a  woman. 

Disraeli  rarely  appeared  in  society  without  his  wife. 
When  she  had  grown  old  to  the  world,  she  never  seemed 
to  have  grown  old  to  him.  They  were  inseparable,  and 
satisfied  in  each  other's  companionship. 

]\rr.  Gladstone  said,  after  Disraeli  died :  "  There  was 
another  feeling,  lying  nearer  to  the  very  centre  of  his 
existence,  which,  though  a  domestic  feeling,  may  now  be 
referred  to  without  indelicacy.  I  mean  his  profound, 
devoted,  tender,  and  grateful  affection  for  his  wife, 
which,  if,  as  may  be  the  case,  it  deprived  him  of  the 
honor  of  public  obsequies,  has,  nevertheless,  left  for  him 
a  more  permanent  title  as  one  v/ho  knew,  amid  the  calls 
and  temptations  of  political  life,  what  was  due  to  the 


I 


ill 


I  ? ;  ■' ' 


B^ 


i?h;      11.         i 


apK 

1 

1 

i 

t 

" 

1 
1 

t 

' 


340 


THE  EARL   OF  BEACON SFIELD. 


sanctity  and  strength  of  the  domestic  affections,  and 
made  him,  in  that  respect,  an  example  to  the  country  in 
which  he  lived." 

"  They  was  like  a  pair  of  turtle-doves,  they  was,"  said 
the  head  gardener  to  a  visitor  at  Hughenden.  "  They 
was  like  that  to  the  last  day  of  their  lives  They  woukl 
spend  whole  days  out  here  together  in  the  summer-time  ; 
and  it  was  her  delight  to  take  him  to  see  things  which 
she  had  done  to  please  him  unbeknown.  If  she  thouglit 
he'd  like  to  have  a  clearer  view  of  the  meadows,  she'd 
have  openings  cut  in  the  woods.  She  used  to  tell  me  to 
do  it  on  the  quiet,  and  when  it  was  all  done  she'd  lead 
him  to  the  spot. 

"Do  you  see  that  monnyment  y-  n^-'^  r  on  the  hill? 
Well,  it's  put  up  in  memory  of  ^nv  ""'u-d's  fatner,  him 
that  wrote  the  book  ;  and  my  lady  did  it  all  >•  f  her  own 
accord.  Slie  had  the  plans  made,  and  set  the  masons  to 
work  without  sayin'  a  word  to  him  about  it ;  and  then 
she  takes  him  o\So  one  fine  afternoon,  and  says  he, 
'  What's  that  ?  '  —  '  Let's  go  see,'  says  she,  with  a  smile  ; 
and  when  they  got  near  it  he  stood  and  looked  at  her  for 
a  full  minute  without  speakin'  a  word.  I've  lieerd  as 
how  he  cried,  but  not  havin'  been  near  enough  to  see  it, 
I  can't  say.  It  was  the  finished  monnyment  to  Isaac 
Disraeli,  sir,  fit  for  Westminster  Abbey.  She  loved 
Isaac  Disraeli's  son  like  that." 

A  writer  in  Temple  Bar  says:  "Those  who  knew 
Mrs.  Disraeli  remember  how  every  morning,  when  she 
had  settled  her  household  affairs  with  a  quiet,  domi- 
neering activity,  she  would  sit  down  to  glance  through 
heaps  of  newspapers,  reviews,  and  even  blue-books,  to 
spare  her  husband  this  fatigue.  At  his  ten-o'clock 
breakfast  he  heard  from  her  all  the  news  of  the  '^ay, 


(I 


THE  EARL   OF  BEACON SFIELD. 


341 


iions,  and 
!Ountry  in 

ivas,"  said 
.  "  They 
ley  would 
mer-tiiiio  ; 
igs  which 
e  thou<,dit 
)ws,  she'd 
cell  me  to 
he'd  lead 

:He  hill? 
fcner,  him 

her  own 
lasons  to 
and  then 

says   he, 

a  smile ; 
it  her  for 
heerd  as 
:o  see  it, 

to  Isaac 
he   loved 

lio  knew 
*^hen  she 
it,  domi- 
through 
books,  to 
n-i  >'clock 
the  '""ay, 


got  the  pith  of  the  leaders  from  the  Times,  was  told 
of  everything  printed  in  his  favor,  and  often  received  a 
useful  budget  of  facts,  statistics,  and  anecdotes,  bearing 
ui")on  speeches  which  he  was  going  to  deliver. 

'•Frc'i  the  time  of  his  marriage  a  great  change  came 
over  Disraeli.  The  fervid  self-assertedness  of  his  bache- 
lor days  was  put  off ;  the  florid  imperfections  of  his 
dress  were  corrected ;  he  became  less  anxious  to  shine 
than  to  please,  less  careful  to  convince  than  to  amuse. 
His  sure  helpmate  scored  for  him,  so  to  say,  marking 
down  all  the  points  he  made,  watching  the  effects  of  his 
conversational  shots,  and  reporting  everything  faithfully 
to  him,  so  that  he  could  never  feel  depressed  under  a 
sense  of  diminishing  prowess." 

However  cynical  Disraeli  might  have  been  in  some 
matters,  he  wa^  never  cynical  about  the  influence  of 
woman,  or  the  beauty  of  womanhood.  "  Few  great  men 
have  flourished,"  he  says  in  "  Henrietta  Temple,"  "  who, 
were  they  candid,  would  not  acknowledge  the  vast  ad' 
vantages  they  have  experienced  in  the  earlier  years  of 
their  career  from  the  spirit  and  sympathy  of  woman. 
.  .  .  How  many  an  ofiicial  portfolio  would  never  have 
been  carried,  had  it  not  been  for  her  sanguine  spirit  and 
assiduous  love  ! 

"  How  many  a  depressed  and  despairing  advocate  has 
clutched  the  Great  Seal,  and  taken  his  precedence  before 
princes,  borne  onward  by  the  breeze  of  her  inspiring 
hope,  and  illumined  by  the  sunshine  of  her  prophetic 
smile !  A  female  fr'.end,  amiable,  clever,  and  devoted, 
is  a  pcosession  more  valuable  than  parks  and  palaces ; 
and,  without  such  a  muse,  few  men  can  succeed  in  life, 
none  be  content." 

In  "Lothair,"  Disraeli  makes  the  Princess  of  Tivoli 


i: 


342 


THE  EARL  OF  BEACONSFIELD. 


say,  in  speakin  of  Theodora :  "  The  power  of  the 
passions,  the  fo.  ce  of  the  will,  the  creative  energy  of 
the  imagination,  —  these  make  life,  and  reveal  to  us  a 
world  of  which  the  millions  are  entirely  ignorant.  You 
have  been  fortunate  in  your  youth  to  have  become 
acquainted  with  a  great  woman.  It  develops  all  a  man's 
powers,  and  gives  him  a  thousand  talents. 

"  It  is  the  spirit  of  man  that  says,  '  I  will  be  great ; ' 
but  it  is  the  sympathy  of  woman  that  usually  makes 
him  so." 

Of  "  Coningsby,"  he  says  :  "  No  clever  and  refined 
woman,  with  her  quick  perception,  and  nice  criticism 
that  never  offends  our  self-love,  had  ever  given  him  that 
education  that  is  more  precious  than  universities.  The 
mild  suggestions  of  a  sister,  the  gentle  raillery  of  some 
laughing  cousin,  are  also  advantages  not  always  appre- 
ciated at  the  time,  but  which  boys,  when  they  have 
become  men,  often  think  over  wiih  gratitude,  and  a  little 
remorse  at  the  ungracious  spirit  in  which  they  were 
received." 

In  "Coningsby,"  also,  Disraeli  g'ves  a  picture  of  his 
own  married  life:  "The  lot  most  precious  to  man,  and 
which  a  beneficent  Providence  has  made  not  the  least 
common  —  to  find  in  another  heart  a  perfect  and  pro- 
found sympathy,  to  unite  his  existtnce  with  one  who 
could  share  all  his  joys,  soften  all  his  sorrows,  aid  him 
in  all  his  projects,  respond  to  all  liis  fancies,  counsel 
him  in  his  cares  and  support  him  in  his  perils,  make 
life  charming  by  her  charms,  interesting  by  her  intelli- 
gence, and  sweet  by  tlie  vigilant  viriety  of  her  tender- 
ness—  to  find  your  life  blessed  by  such  an  influence, 
and  to  feel  that  your  influence  can  bless  3uch  a  life ;  the 
lot  the  mofit  divine  of  divine  gifts,  so  nerfect  that 
power  and  even  fame  can  neve;:  rival  its  delights." 


TUE  EARL   OF  BEACO.X SFIKLI). 


B43 


of  the 

iiergy  of 

to  us  a 

it.     You 

become 

a  man's 

great ; ' 
J  makes 

refined 
iriticism 
lim  that 
s.  The 
of  some 
s  appre- 
ey  have 
L  a  little 
!y  were 

!  of  his 
lan,  and 
he  least 
nd  pro- 
ne who 
lid  him 
counsel 
3,  make 
intelli- 
tender- 
fluence, 
fe;  the 
ct  that 


After  his  marriage,  Disraeli  and  his  wife  spent  two 
months  in  travel  in  Germany,  and  then  he  came  back  to 
his  labors  in  the  House  of  Commons.  \\\  1841,  under 
Sir  Ivobert  Peel  as  Prime  Minister,  Disraeli  was  returned 
for  Shrewsbury.  The  Free  Trade  doctrines  were  being 
advocated  by  Bright  and  Cobden.  Peel  evidently  was 
weakening  fron*  his  Protectionist  professions.  Disraeli, 
a  Protectionist,  and  his  political  follower,  began  to  lose 
confidence  in  his  leader. 

They  differed  on  the  Irish  question.  Peel  was  for 
coercion  bills  ;  and  Disraeli  contended  tliat  "  a  starving 
population,  an  absentee  aristocracy,  and  an  alien  Church  " 
being  the  causes  of  the  disaffection,  coercion,  would  not 
remedy  it.  He  soon  became  the  head  of  a  small  party 
of  younger  Tory  members,  who  were  called  Young 
En  glanders. 

These  hoped  "  to  rekindle  that  attachment  to  the 
throne,  the  Church,  and  the  landed  proprietors  of  the 
kingdom,  which,  tliough  the  flame  burned  low,  was  yet 
far  from  being  extinct." 

Disraeli,  believing  in  the  necessity  and  the  wisdom  of 
a  landed  aristocracy,  still  urged  that  that  aristocracy 
do  its  whole  duty,  be  distinguished  for  public  and  private 
virtues,  and  that  the  Church  revive  itself  to  its  noble 
position  of  spiritual  leadership.  "The  Church,"  lie 
said,  "  was  in  theory,  and  once  it  had  been  in  practice, 
the  spiritual  and  intellectual  trainer  of  the  people.  The 
privileges  if  the  multitude  and  the  prerogative  of  the 
sovereign  had  grown  up  together,  and  togctlier  they  had 
waned.  Under  the  plea  of  Liberalism,  all  the  institu- 
tions which  were  the  bulwark  of  the  multitude  had 
been  sapped  and  weakened,  and  nothing  had  been  sub- 
stituted  for   them."      Evidently   the    man    who    began 


ii 


344 


TltE  EAliL  OF  BEACON '^FIFLD. 


\'M  'ical  life  as  a  Kadicul  was  now  a  clerkly  defined 
^  ory. 

Vitli  the  hope  of  impressing  the  views  of  the  Young 
Ehgia  uhu's  upon  the  people,  "Coningsby  "  and  "  Sybil" 
were  written.  . 

"Coningsby;  or,  The  New  Generation,"  was  pub- 
lish c-d  in  1844.  Three  editions  were  sold  in  three 
months  in  England.  It  was  largely  cireulaitivl.  through- 
Ctiit  Europe,  and  in  a  short  time  fifty  thou  ivud  copies 
were  sold  in  the  United  States. 

"  The  main  purpose  of  its  writer,"  says  the  preface, 
"was  to  vindicate  the  just  claims  of  the  Tory  party  to 
be  the  popular  political  confederation  of  the  country. 
...  In  considering  the  Tory  scheme,  the  author  recog- 
nized in  the  Church  the  most  powerful  agent  in  the 
previous  development  of  England,  and  the  most  efficient 
means  of  that  renovation  of  the  national  spirit  at  which 
he  aimed.  ... 

"In  vindicating  the  sovereign  right  of  the  Church 
of  Christ  to  be  the  perpetual  regenerator  of  ma,n,  the 
writer  thought  the  time  had  arrived  when  some  attempt 
should  be  made  to  do  justice  to  the  race  which  founded 
Christianity." 

In  speaking  of  the  Middle  Ages,  when  the  Jews  were 
looked  upon  as  an  accursed  race,  he  says,  — 

"No  one  paused  to  reflect  that  Christianity  was 
founded  by  the  Jews  ;  that  its  Divine  Author,  in  his 
human  capacity,  was  a  descendant  of  King  David ;  .  .  . 
that  the  apostles  and  the  evangelists,  wliose  names  men 
daily  invoked,  and  whose  volumes  they  embrace  with 
reverence,  were  all  Jews.  .  .  .  And  that  a  Jew  was  the 
founder  of  the  Christian  Churches  of  Asia."  These 
views  are  developed  further  still  in  "  Tancred."     Con- 


THE  EAllL  OF  HE ACON AFIELD. 


345 


defined 


3  Youiif,' 
'  Sybil " 

as  j)ub- 
11  three 
hrougli- 
l  copies 

preface, 
)ai'ty  to 
iountiy. 
r  recog- 
in  the 
ifficient 
t  which 


Church 

\,  the 
ttenipt 
blinded 

s  were 

iy  was 
in  his 

)  •  •  • 

s  men 
^  with 
is  the 
These 
Con- 


ingsby,  the  liero  of  the  novel,  and  one  of  the  aristocracy, 
grandson  of  Lord  Monmouth,  is  educated  at  Eton,  saves 
the  life  of  his  schoolmate.  Oswald  ^Nlillbank,  the  son  of 
a  mill-owner  in  Lancasl  rC;  '^  noble  and  generous,  and 
"wishes  to  be  a  great  i  in." 

He  meets  Sidonia,  ^  vi.  h  ti^w,  —  not  unlike  Disraeli, 
—  and  tells  him  his  wis:    .or  eminence. 

"jVlature  your  nr'  ''d  with  great  thoughts,"  replies 
Sidonia.  "To  believ  i  i  the  heroic  makes  heroes.  .  .  . 
The  age  does  not  believe  in  great  men,  becauise  it  does 
not  possess  any.  The  Spirit  of  tlie  Age  is  the  very 
thing  that  a  great  man  changes,"  says  Sidonia. 

"  What  is  an  individual  against  a  vast  public  opinion  ?  " 
exclaims  Coningsby. 

"Divine,"  says  Sidonia. 

Sidonia  becomes  a  power  with  the  young  man.  "  All 
of  us  encounter,"  says  Disraeli,  "  at  Iciist  once  in  our 
life,  some  individual  who  utters  words  that  make  us 
think  forever.  There  are  men  whose  phrases  are  oracles  : 
who  condense  in  a  sentence  the  secrets  of  life  ;  who  blurt 
out  an  aphorism  that  forms  a  character  or  illustrates  an 
existence.  A  great  thing  is  a  great  book ;  but  greater 
than  all  is  the  talk  of  a  great  man !  .  .  .  A  great  man  is 
one  who  affects  the  mind  of  his  generation,  whether  he 
be  a  monk  in  a  clois^er,  agitating  Christendom,  or  a 
monarch  crossing  the  Granicus,  and  giving  a  new  charac- 
ter to  the  pagan  world." 

Under  such  teaching,  Coningsby  is  prepared  to  edu- 
cate the  "  new  qjeneration."  He  loves  Edith  jMillbank, 
and  is  finally  able  to  overcome  the  aversion  of  the  rich 
mill-owner  for  the  conceited,  and,  to  his  view,  nearly 
useless  ari.Nl  ocracy,  and  marries  her.  Coningsby  becomes 
rich  through  the  gift  of  a  young  woman  who  loves  him, 


II 


346 


THE  EAUL   OF  BEACON SFIKLJ). 


iA?  :i    i 


i!^'  Ill 


i   ' 


Flora  Villebecque,  the  natural  daughter  of  the  profligate 
Lord  Monmouth. 

"  Sybil ;  or,  The  Two  Nations,"  published  in  1845,  is 
a  study  of  the  rich  and  the  poor,  especially  the  latter. 

"  Two  nations ;  between  whom  there  is  no  intercourse 
and  no  sympathy  ;  who  are  as  ignorant  of  each  other's 
habits,  thoughts,  and  feelings,  as  if  they  were  dwellers 
in  different  zones,  or  inhabitants  of  different  planets ; 
who  are  formed  by  a  different  breeding,  are  fed  by  a 
different  food,  are  ordered  by  different  manners,  and  are 
not  governed  by  the  same  laws." 

Disraeli  had  personally  visited  the  manufacturing 
towns  and  the  poor  elsewhere,  and,  like  the  noble  Lord 
Shaftesbury,  had  seen  for  himself  the  misery  of  the 
struggling  millions.  Sj'bil,  a  lovely  woman,  is  one  cf 
Disraeli's  most  beautiful  creations,  just  as  Theodora  in 
"  Lothair,"  is  a  character  as  far  removed  as  possible  from 
the  usual  type  in  an  English  novel.  Disraeli  had  no 
fear  in  describing  the  leader  of  the  English  poor,  and 
the  leader  of  the  Italians  in  their  struggles  for  liberty, 
as  women.  Even  death  on  battle-Helds  did  not  spoil 
their  gentleness  of  character.  The  women  of  the 
world  have  the  l*rime  ^Minister  of  England  to  thank  for 
man}'  pictures  of  a  strong  and  noble  womanhood  —  not 
liel})less  or  superficial,  but,  like  his  own  wife,  intel- 
lectual, and  able  companions  in  the  daily  struggle. 

Lord  ]\[arney  and  Lord  ^Mowbray  in  the  book  are 
liarsh  landlords  and  mill-owntrs,  who  think  "a  peasant 
can  rear  a  family  on  eight  shillings  a  week."  Their 
indifference  as  to  the  condition  of  their  work-people 
amounts  to  brutality.  Poor  little  waifs  like  "Devils- 
dust  "  are  the  result.  ''  About  a  fortnight  after  his 
mother  had  introduced  him  to  the  world,  she  returned 


77//';   /;.l/.7.   (,F  lU'LlCOXs FIELD. 


347 


>i'ofligate 


1845,  is 
hittor. 
ercoui'se 
L  other's 
dwellers 
planets  ; 
'ed  by  a 
and  are 

actiirinGf 

>le  Lord 

of  the 

one  of 

)dora  in 

)le  from 

had  no 

Dor,  and 

liberty, 

3t   spoil 

of    tlie 

ank  for 

i  —  )iot 

',  intel- 

)ok  are 
peasant 
Their 
-people 
Devils- 
ter  his 
^turned 


to  her  factory,  and  put  her  infant  out  to  nurse — that 
is  to  say,  paid  threepenc^e  a  week  to  an  old  woman,  who 
takes  charge  of  these  newborn  babes  for  the  day,  and 
gives  them  back  at  night  to  their  mothers,  as  they  hur- 
riedly return  from  the  scene  of  their  labor  to  the  dungeon 
or  t'.-j  den  which  is  still  by  courtesy  called  'home.'  The 
expense  is  not  great :  Laudanum  and  treacle,  administered 
in  the  shape  of  some  popuhir  elixir,  affords  these  inno- 
cents a  brief  taste  of  the  sweets  of  existence,  and,  keep- 
ing them  quiet,  prepares  them  for  the  silence  of  their 
impending  grave.  .  .  . 

"At  two  years  of  age,  his  mother  being  lost  sight  of 
and  the  weekly  payment  having  ceased,  he  was  sent  out 
in  the  street  to  '  play,'  in  order  to  be  run  over.  Even 
this  expedient  failed.  The  youngest  and  the  feeblest  of 
the  band  of  victims.  Juggernaut  spared  him  to  Moloch. 
All  his  companions  were  disposed  cf.  Three  months 
'play'  in  the  streets  got  rid  of  this  tender  company, — 
shoeless,  half-naked,  and  uncombed,  —  whose  age  varied 
from  two  to  five  years.  Some  were  crushed,  some  were 
lost,  some  caught  cold  and  fevers,  crept  back  to  their 
garret  or  their  cellars,  were  dosed  with  Godfrey's  cor- 
dial, and  died  in  peace. 

"  The  nameless  one  would  not  disappear.  He  always 
got  out  of  the  way  of  the  carts  and  horses.  They  gave 
him  no  food ;  he  foraged  for  himself,  and  shared  with 
the  dogs  the  gr.rbage  of  the  streets.  But  still  he  lived", 
stunted  and  pale,  he  defied  even  the  fatal  fever  which 
was  the  only  habitant  of  his  cellar  that  never  quitted  it. 
And,  slumbering  at  night  on  a  bed  of  mouldering  straw, 
his  only  protection  against  the  plashy  surface  of  his  den, 
with  a  dungheap  at  his  head,  and  a  cesspool  at  his  fe(?t, 
he  still  clung  to  the  only  roof  which  shielded  him  from 
the  tempest.  ... 


i^^i 


si 


if    w 


IM 


n 
111 


i     1^ 

illi 


(h 


:i;      i 


348 


rilE  EAUL   OF  IsEACONSFIELD. 


u 


All  tli(^  childroii  gni(lii;illy  sickciu'd  except  liiinsolf; 
and  Olio  night  when  he  returned  home  he  found  the  old 
woman  herself  dead,  and  surrounded  only  by  corpses. 
The  child  before  this  had  slept  on  the  same  bed  of  straw 
with  a  corpse,  but  then  there  were  also  breathing  beings 
for  his  companions.  A  night  passed  only  with  corpses 
seemed  to  him  in  itself  a  kind  of  death.  He  stole  out  of 
the  cellar,  quitted  the  quarter  of  pestilence,  and,  after 
much  wandering,  lay  down  near  the  door  of  a  factory. 
Fortune  had  guided  him.  .  .  . 

"  A  child  was  wanting  in  the  Wadding  Hole,  a  place 
for  the  manufacture,  of  waste  and  damaged  cotton,  the 
refuse  of  the  mills,  which  is  here  woi  ked  up  into  counter- 
panes and  coverlets.  The  nameless  one  was  preferred  to 
the  vacant  post,  received  even  a  salary  ;  more  than  that, 
a  name,  for,  as  he  had  none,  he  was  christened  on  the 
spot,  Devilsdust." 

Sybil  is  the  daughter  of  a  workingman,  Walter  Gerard, 
who  joins  with  others  in  organizing  trades-unions  for 
the  protection  of  labor.  At  last  the  laborers  become 
incensed  at  the  low  wages,  indifference,  and  lectures  "  on 
their  improved  condition,"  by  their  employers.  The 
laborers  knew  that  with  the  spread  of  intelligence  their 
needs  for  decent  living  were  greater;  that  the  capitalist 
was  building  a  fine  home  while  wages  were  lowered; 
that  "  supply  and  demand  "  was  idle  talk  to  the  starv- 
ing in  a  Christian  civilization  where  men  were  called 
"brothers." 

Egremont,  the  younger  brother  of  Lord  iNfarney,  loves 
Sybil  for  her  high  character,  and  tries  to  assure  her  that 
"the  increased  knowledge  of  themselves  will  teach  the 
educated  their  social  duties.  There  is  a  days})ring  in 
the  history  of  this  nation,  which,  perhaps,  those  only  who 


— ItlWI    IT 


77/ Z;  EARL   OF   llEACONSFIELl). 


349 


liiniself ; 
I  tlio  old 
corpses, 
of  straw 
ig  beings 
I  corpses 
)le  out  of 
lul,  after 
>  factory. 

,  a  place 
ttoii,  the 
couuter- 
ferred  to 
.an  that, 
on  the 

Gerard, 
ions   for 

become 
.res  "  on 
s.  The 
ice  their 
ipitalist 
OAvered ; 
.e  starv- 
3  called 

y,  loves 
lor  that 
acli  the 
)ring  in 
ily  who 


are  on  the  mountain-tops  can  as  yet  recognize.  Vou 
deem  you  are  in  the  darkness,  and  I  see  a  dawn." 

Disraeli  did  indeed  hope  that  "  Darkest  England " 
■would  be  aroused ;  that  lier  rich  would  not  waste  in 
luxury  what  would  ma'te  the  poor  happy ;  that  capital 
would  be  mindful  of  labor,  and  not  think  that  duties 
were  ended  when  wages  were  paid.  But  he  died  before 
the  "  dawn  "  had  come  which  his  hero  prophesied. 

The  castle  of  Lord  jNEowbray  in  the  novel  is  sacked 
and  burned  by  the  hd)orers,  while  Lord  ^Larney  and  the 
Chartist  agitators,  Gerard  and  Morley,  are  killed  in  the 
conflict. 

Disraeli  writes  his  sister,  on  May -day,  1845 :  " '  Sybil ' 
was  finished  yesterdiiy.  I  thought  it  never  would  be  ; 
the  printers  were  on  my  heels,  and  have  been  for  the 
last  month.  ...  I  have  never  been  through  such  a  four 
months,  and  hope  never  again.  What  with  the  House 
of  Commons,  which  was  itself  quite  enough  for  a  man, 
and  writing  six  hundred  pages,  I  thought  sometimes  my 
head  must  turn.'' 

England  had  been  stirred  profoundly  by  the  Free 
Trade  contest.  Sir  Ilobort  Feel  had  no  antagonist  like 
the  Protectionist,  Disraeli.  He  felt  that  Peel  had 
betrayed  his  party  by  going  over  to  tlie  Free  Trad(!rs. 
His  satire  was  withering. 

^' For  myself,"  said  Disraeli,  "I  care  r>*i  what  may  be 
the  result.  Dissolve,  if  you  please,  the  Tarliament  you 
have  betrayed,  and  appeal  to  the  people,  who,  I  believe, 
mistrust  you.  For  me  there  remains  tJiis,  at  least,  the 
opportunity  of  expressing  thus  publicly  my  belief  that 
ii  Conservative  Government  is  an  organized  liypocris3\" 

Disraeli  accused  Peel  of  having  stolen  the  Liberal 
policy.     "  The  right  honorable  gentleman,''  he  said,  "  had 


•    '3 


!'■ 


HI 


»"  1 11 


m 


iil  !# 


hJ 


fr 


'U 


' 

[ 

'■ 

\ 

t 

%£. 

350 


THE  EAIiL   OF  BEACOYSFTELD. 


caught  tlie  Wliigs  bathing,  and  had  walked  away  with 
their  clothes." 

Disraeli  wrote  his  sister  that  "Peel  was  stunned  and 
stupefied,  lost  his  head,  and  vacillating  between  silence 
and  spleen,  spoke  much  and  weakly.  Never  was  a 
greater  failure !  Assui'ing  nie  that  I  had  not  hurt  his 
feelings,  that  he  would  never  reciprocate  personalities 
again,  having  no  venom,  etc.,  etc." 

Disraeli  had  advised  the  Irish  not  to  trust  Peel, 
"  whose  bleak  shade  had  fallen  on  the  sunshine  of  their 
hopes  for  a  quarter  of  a  century." 

Cobden's  idea  that  the  rest  of  mankind  would  follow 
the  example  of  England  in  opening  their  ports  to  the 
world,  was  scouted  by  Disraeli  as  absurd.  He  said,  on 
the  third  reading  of  the  bill  for  the  Repeal  of  the  Corn 
Laws:  "It  may  be  vain  now  in  the  midnight  of  their 
intoxication  to  tell  them  that  there  will  be  an  awakening 
of  bitterness.  It  may  be  idle  now  in  the  spring-tide  of 
their  economic  frenzy,  to  warn  them  that  there  may  be 
an  ebb  of  trouble.  But  the  dark  and  inevitable  hour 
will  arrive.  Then  when  their  spirit  is  softened  by  mis- 
fortune, they  will  recur  to  those  principles  which  made 
England  great,  and  which,  in  our  belief,  alone  can  keep 
England  great. 

"Then,  toe,  perhaps,  they  may  rememVer,  not  with 
uukindness,  those  who,  betrayed  and  deserted,  were 
neither  ashamed  nor  afraid  to  struggle  for  the  '  good  old 
cause,'  the  cause  with  which  are  associated  ])vinciples  the 
most  popular,  sentiments  the  most  entirely  national,  the 
cause  of  labor,  the  cause  of  the  people,  the  cause  of 
England." 

Peel's  administration  fell  soon  after,  and  Disraeli,  a 
member  of  the  des]>is(Ml  Jcwisli  rar-o,  Ijccanu^  the  head  of 


THE  EARL    OF  liEACoySFlKLI). 


351 


ay  with 

ned  and 

silence 

was   a 

iiirt  his 

)nalities 

5t  Peel, 
Qf  their 

I  follow 
1  to  the 
said,  on 
;ie  Corn 
Df  their 
akening 
■tide  of 
may  be 
e  hour 
by  mis- 
h  made 
in  keep 

at  with 
1,  were 
:ood  old 
)los  the 
nal,  the 
ause  of 

iraeli,  a 
head  of 


the  Opposition.  For  twenty -live  years  he  led  his  party  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  being  three  times  Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer.  "  Any  proposals  which  he  considered  good," 
says  Mr.  Froude,  "  he  helped  forward  with  earnestness 
and  ability  —  proposals  for  shortening  the  hours  of  hibor, 
for  the  protection  of  cliildren  in  the  factories,  for  the 
improvement  of  the  dwelling-houses  of  the  })oor.  He 
mav  be  said  to  have  brought  the  Jews  into  I'arliament  a 
quarter  of  a  century  before  they  would  otherwise  have 
been  admitted  there,  for  the  Conservatives  themselves 
would  proba))ly  have  opposed  tlieir  admission  to  the  end." 

The  Bill  for  the  Admission  of  Jews  to  Parliament  was 
offered  in  1830,  and  failed.  In  1(S33  it  passed  the  House 
of  Commons,  and  was  lejected  in  the  House  of  Lords  by 
fifty  votes,  ^igain  and  again  it  was  defeated.  In  1847 
P>aron  Lionel  Rothschild  was  elected  as  one  of  the  mem- 
bers for  the  City  of  London.  For  four  sessions  he  sat  as 
a  stranger,  and  then  he  presented  himself  at  the  table  of 
the  House,  and  demanded  to  be  sworn.  He  was  sworn 
on  the  Old  Testament,  but  omitted  the  words  "  on  the 
true  faith  of  a  Christian,"  in  the  Oath  of  Abjuration. 
He  did  not  contest  the  matter  further,  but  sat  like  any 
other  stranger.  Finall}',  in  1858,  after  twenty-eiglit  years 
of  discussion,  Jews  were  admitted  to  Parliament  by  a  bill 
eniibling  either  House  by  resolution  to  modify  its  oath. 

During  the  American  Civil  War,  though  Disraeli  be- 
lieved, with  many  others,  that  the  Xorth  would  not 
succeed,  he  advised  non-interference,  and  carried  his 
party  with  him. 

In  the  midst  of  his  busy  life,  he  wrote  his  novel 
"Tancred"  in  1817,  and  his  "Life  of  Lord  George 
Bentinck"  in  1852.  '*  Tancred,  or  the  New  Crusade," 
was   his    favorite.     Bentinck  was  a  leader  of  the  Pro- 


Mil 


!i  t  i 


I 


i 


I 


t! 


Ilf'ii  ff 


in 


352 


THE  EARL   OF  BEACON SFIELD. 


tectionists  against  Peel,  fci'illiis  sudden  deatli;  and  thou!;li 
this  Life  was  a  labor  of  love  for  ])israeli,  the  writing  of 
the  book  was  fatiguing. 

He  writes  his  sister,  S(q)^..  10,  1850:  "Two  immense 
chests  of  George  l^)entinck's  papers  from  the  Duke  ot 
I'ortland  —  materials  for  a  memoir,  long  contemplated." 
In  October  he  writes  :  "  I  am  getting  on  pretty  well  with 
my  work,  though  tired  of  this  life  of  everlasting  labor. 
Tliis  is  a  beautiful  autumn,  and  the  tints  are  very  fine 
and  various,  though  tlu;  russet  beeoh  predominates. 
These  co^'ors,  however,  are  no  compensation  for  the  loss 
of  long  days.  I  get  up  at  seven,  but  they  are  fearfully 
short,  and  I  cannot,  as  you  know,  work  at  night." 

Dec.  7,  1851,  he  writes :  "  I  finished  the  last  line  of 
the  last  chapter  last  night,  and  never  in  my  life  felt 
more  relieved,  not  having  had  a  moment's  ease  the  whole 
autumn." 

Isaac  Disraeli  had  died  in  1848,  and  with  the  portion 
of  money  which  came  to  Benjamin,  he  was  enabled  to 
purchase  the  manor  of  Hughenden,  near  his  boyhood's 
home,  Bradenham.  jMrs.  Disraeli  raised  in  the  park  a 
handsome  monument  to  her  husband's  father,  and  his 
son  republished  his  f.cther's  books,  prefixing  an  interest- 
ing biography  of  the  retiring  student. 

Hughenden,  with  its  two  thousand  acres,  its  woo(i 
and  walks,  and  white  manor-house,  is  an  attractive 
place.  "The  abundance  of  timber,"  says  an  English 
writer,  "has  given  the  landscape  gardener  s})lendid 
material  to  work  ui)on.  Here  he  has  cleared  a  glade  and 
there  a  little  amphitheatre,  r"Hl  at  needful  distances  for 
effect  he  has  varied  the  greens  and  browns  of  the  grass 
and  the  trees  with  patches  of  all  the  colors  in  which 
God  has  painted  the  Howers  of  the  field, ' 


shillllii 


I 


TUB  EAUL   OF  BEACONSFIELD. 


353 


,nd  thoii;;!; 
writing  of 


D  immense 
e  Duke  ol 
emplated." 
f  well  with 
ting  labor, 
e  very  tine 
dominates, 
or  the  loss 
e  fearfully 
lit." 

ast  line  of 
y  life  felt 
B  the  whole 

;he  portion 
enabled  to 
boyhood's 
the  park  a 
31-,  and  his 
an  inte  re  sl- 
its wood 
attractive 
m    English 
splendid 
a  glade  and 
stances  for 
f  the  grass 
s  in  which 


Within,  "the  pictures  begin  at  the  hall  door.  They 
line  the  staircase  walls,  they  overflow  into  every  cham- 
ber and  ante-chamber,  and  there  is  hardly  one  of  them 
that  is  not  a  personal  memento.  .  .  .  Here  in  the  low- 
ceiled  entry  is  Edward  Lytton  I^ulwer  in  the  day  of  his 
dandyism,  a  picture  as  carefully  wrought  out  by  the 
painter,  in  boots  and  cuffs  and  collar  as  in  the  fine  brow 
above  them. 

"  Here  is  Lyndhurst,  the  great  Tory  Lord  Chancelh>i. 
.  .  .  This  portrait  was  painted  by  the  young  Disraeli's 
idol,  D'Orsay :  and  opposite  to  it  hangs  the  effigy  of  the 
artist  and  the  idol  himself  —  the  Crichton  of  his  time, 
the  best  dresser,  the  brightest  wit,  the  most  accom- 
plished swordsman,  painter,  equestrian,  and  general 
highflyer,  perhaps  ever  seen  in  London  society,  and 
withal,  as  tradition  ascures  us,  the  handsomest  man,  not 
only  of  a  season,  but  of  an  epoch.  .  .  . 

"  One  chief  secret  of  Disraeli's  early  impecuniosity  is 
now  known ;  he  gave  up  the  ready  money  left  him  by 
his  father,  some  thousands  of  pounds,  to  help  to  pay 
D'Orsay's  debts.  It  was  but  a  drop  in  that  ocean  of 
liability,  but  it  helped  his  hero  through  one  bad  quarter 
of  an  hour,  and  with  that  the  devotee  was  content. 
Another  canvas  only  separates  D'Orsay  from  the  Count- 
ess of  Llessington  —  a  brunette  radiant  with  youthful 
beauty." 

In  the  library,  "  the  light  is  abundant,  and  it  falls  as 
often  on  brilliant  hangings  as  on  sober  bindings.  .  .  . 
Rich  Oriental  yellows  predominate  in  the  decorations, 
but  there  is  an  Oriental  liarmony  in  the  fittings  of  the 
apartment,  taken  as  a  whole.  The  bookbinder's  lines 
of  gold  on  the  volumes,  here  and  there,  catch  up  and 
carry  rut  tho  cohn;  as  an  art'st  would  say,  from  one  end 


itn 


!!l 


111 


^1 


\'t 


]   I 


,<l 


l!  I    : 

II. 

I!  <   I 

i!  I   ^ 
1- 


-^  ii 

3  '''*«\  .i 


354 


27/^  iM7?L   OF  BEACON SFIELD. 


of  the  room  to  the  other,  and  the  place  is  fiUed  with 
bits  of  bric-a-brac  which  serve  the  same  end.  .  .  .  Pre- 
sentation books  lie  about  o:i  the  tables.  One  of  them, 
a  trophy  from  Berlin,  is  i  beautifully  printed  and 
beautifully  bound  edition  of  the  Psalms  in  German, 
weighing  several  pounds.  A  slip  of  paper  thrust  be- 
tween the  leaves  says  that  it  is  from  an  admirer  —  there 
is  no  other  clew  to  the  giver's  name.  .  .  . 

"The  drawing-room  is  very  gorgeous  in  its  glow  of 
gold  and  yellow  satin.  The  parqueted  floor  is  in  the 
French  style.  French,  too,  in  taste,  is  the  abundance 
of  figure-subjects  in  old  china,  though  these  are  mostly 
of  Dresden  ware.  This  might  be  called  the  Queen's 
room,  for  the  Queen  sat  in  it  on  her  memorable  visit 
to  her  favorite  minister,  —  a  visit  of  a  couple  of  hours, 
but  it  made  Russia  and  Germany  understand  his  hold 
on  power,  and  it  will  be  remembered  in  this  rural 
neighborhood  for  ten  times  as  many  j^ears.  [The  (Jueen 
and  Beatrice  each  2:)lanted  a  fir  tree  at  Haghenden.] 

"This  room  abounds  with  evidences  of  her  royal 
favor  to  the  man  who  has  made  her  something  more  than 
a  queen,  and  wdiose  enemies,  indeed,  accuse  him  of 
making  her  an  empress  in  England  as  well  as  in  India 
by  liberating  her  from  the  critical  control  of  Parliament, 
and  accepting  her  will  as  the  nation's  law. 

"In  the  place  of  honor  among  the  pictures  hangs  the 
portrait  of  Her  Majesty,  painted  by  command.  On  the 
table  lies  a  ponderously  bound  copy  of  Theodore  Martin's 
'Faust,'  wdth  the  inscri[)tion  on  the  fly-leaf  in  a  hand- 
writing beautifully  clear  and  bold:  'To  Lord  Beacons- 
field,  with  many  hap})y  returns  of  the  season,  from 
Victoria  Peg.  and  I.  [Reglna  et  Impcratrix],  Christmas 
Eve,  187G.' " 


I 


i  ^ 


■iL4 


'i 


THE  EAliL   OF  BEACON SFI EL  I). 


355 


illed  with 
.  .  .  Pre- 

of  the  in, 
iited    and 

German, 
;hrust  he- 
ir —  there 

5  glow  of 
is  in  the 
ibundance 
re  mostly 
!  Queen's 
able  visit 
of  hours, 
his  hold 
his  rural 
'he  Queen 
U-n.] 

ler   royal 

noro  than 

him   of 

in  India 

rliament, 

langs  the 
On  the 

Martin's 
L  a  iiand- 

Boacons- 
on,  from 
/hristmas 


Disraeli  was  deei)ly  attached  to  Ilughenden.  lie  was 
especially  fond  of  birds,  trees,  and  flowers,  "lie  was 
sincerely  grieved,"  says  Kebbel,  "  when  a  wintiy  gale 
blew  down  a  favorite  ash ;  and  once,  v/hen  a  ]ialf-witt(;d 
peasant,  who  was  aliovy^ed  to  wander  about  the  park, 
showed  him  a  dead  bird  which  he  had  picked  up,  he 
said,  '  Take  it  away,  I  cannot  bear  the  sight  of  it.'  " 

He  had  a  dog  of  which  he  was  very  fond,  a  Persian 
cat,  and  handsome  peacocks,  which  the  Queen  cared  for 
after  his  death.  He  used  if  possible  to  finish  his  official 
business  at  four  o'clock,  that  he  might  walk  or  drive 
before  dinner.  He  was  a  favorite  among  his  cottagers, 
and  often  chatted  with  them  over  their  afternoon  tea. 

In  1851,  about  the  time  of  the  purchase  of  Hughenden, 
Disraeli  had  a  singular  experience.  He  received  a 
letter  from  a  ]\Irs.  Brydgts  Willy ams,  living  at  Torquay, 
which  expressed  admiration,  and  desired  advice  on  some 
business  matters.  Not  1  owing  the  person,  he  tore  it 
up.  Later,  he  received  lother  letter,  asking  to  meet 
him.  He  showed  it  to  "-  s.  Disraeli,  and  tore  it  up.  A 
third  time  she  wrote,  n"d  appointed  a  meeting  in  the 
Great  Exhibition  build  g  by  the  fountain.  He  showed 
this  letter  to  two  inti  late  friends,  who  advised  him  not 
to  neglect  the  request. 

He  went  and  found  an  aged  woman,  a  Jewess,  the 
heiress  of  a  family  of  Spanish  descent.  Her  husband 
had  died  over  thirty  years  before.  She  handed  Disraeli 
a  paper  which  she  begged  him  to  examine  at  his  leisure. 

He  thrust  it  into  h'-  pocket,  and  thought  no  more 
about  it  for  weeks.  Finally,  when  he  recalled  it,  he 
opened  the  package,  antl  found  a  thousand-pound  note 
toward  his  election  expenses,  and  the  case  about  which 
Mrs.    Willyams   had  sought  advice.     The  case  was  at- 


:"  i 


V  'rH 


.1  - 1 


,  i  III  II 


ill 


35G 


THE  EARL   OF  liKACOXSFIELI). 


tended  to,  and  the  advice  was  scut  with  apologies  for 
dehay. 

An  affectionate  friendship  resulted,  aud  Mr.  and  ]\Irs. 
Disraeli  visited  Torquay  each  year.  Every  week  roses 
were  sent  from  Torquay  to  the  Disraelis,  and  they  in 
turn  sent  gifts.  For  twelve  years  an  intimate  corre- 
spondence was  kept  up ;  and  the  letters  have  been  \nv- 
served,  written  by  Disraeli  when  he  had  leisure,  by  his 
wife  when  he  had  not. 

He  writes  Mrs.  Willyanis  from  Hughenden,  September 
2,  18C2  :  "  I  am  quite  myself  again ;  and  as  I  have  been 
drinking  your  magic  beverage  for  a  week,  and  intend  to 
pursue  it,  you  may  fairly  claim  all  the  glory  of  my  recov- 
ery, as  a  fairy  cures  a  knigh^j  after  a  tournament  or  a 
battle.  I  have  a  great  weakness  for  mr.tton  broth, 
especially  v/ith  that  magical  sprinkle  which  you  did  not 
forget.  I  shall  call  you  in  future,  after  an  old  legend 
and  a  modern  poem,  '  the  Lady  of  Shalott.' 

"I  think  the  water  of  which  it  was  made  would  have 
satisfied  even  you,  for  it  was  taken  every  day  from  our 
stream,  which  rises  among  the  chalk  hills,  glitters  in  the 
sun  over  a  very  pretty  cascade,  then  spreads  and  sparkles 
into  a  little  lake  in  which  is  a  natural  island. 

"Since  I  wrote  to  you  last,  we  have  launched  in  the 
lake  two  most  beautiful  cygnets,  to  whom  we  have  given 
the  names  of  Hero  and  Leander.  They  are  a  source  to 
us  of  unceasing  interest  and  amusement.  They  are  very 
handsome  and  very  large,  but  as  3'et  dove-colored.  I  can 
no  longer  write  to  you  of  Cabinet  councils  or  Parlia- 
mentary struggles.  Here  I  see  nothing  but  trees  or 
books,  so  you  must  not  despise  the  news  of  my  swans." 

At  Mrs.  Willyams's  death,  slie  left  him  her  whole  for- 
tune, 30,000  pounds  sterling,  with  a  wish  that  she  might  be 


THE  EAllL  OF  BEACOXSFIELD. 


35T 


logics  for 

and  Mrs. 

eek  roses 
d  they  in 
ate  corre- 
been  pre- 
.re,  by  his 

September 
have  been 
intend  to 
my  recov- 
iiient  or  a 
on  broth, 
u  did  not 


•Id  legend 


xild  have 
from  our 
ers  in  the 
1  sparkles 

ed  in  the 
ave  given 
source  to 
/  are  very 
'd.  I  can 
dv  Tarlia- 

trees  or 
y  swans." 
vhole  for- 

miglit  be 


laid  beside  him  at  Hughenden,  a  wish  of  course  complied 
with.  Rarely  has  a  man  been  so  worshi])ped  liy  two 
women,  as  those  two  who  now  rest  beside  him  in  death, 
his  wife  and  Mrs.  Willyams. 

All  these  years  Disraeli  was  doing  his  work  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  making  witty,  sarcastic,  and  able 
[leeehes,  showing  himself  skilled  in  his  financial  reports  ; 
one  of  tlio  two  groat  masters  who  fought  their  duels  of 
words  before  an  admiring  public,  —  the  one  a  grand 
Liberal,  —  Gladst  )ie  .  the  other  a  brilliant  Tory. 

The  country  stiii  ci.imored  for  reform  in  the  franchise. 
Lord  John  Kussell  had  tried  a  reform  bill  in  1852,  and 
again  in  1854,  but  the  country  was  too  mucli  absorbed  by 
tlie  Crimean  War  abroad,  to  care  for  discontent  a,t  home. 
In  1859  ]\rr.  Disraeli,  as  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer, 
introduced  a  bill,  but  was  defeated  on  the  second  reading. 
In  18GG  the  Liberals,  under  Gladstone,  then  leader  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  introduced  a  reform  bill  in  a  most 
eloquent  speech.  Mr.  Briglit  supported  him.  ]Mr.  Robert 
Lowe,  a  Liberal,  opposed,  and,  with  liis  followers,  was 
likened  by  Mr.  Bright  to  David  in  the  Cave  of  Adullam, 
when  he  called  about  him  "  every  one  that  was  in  distress 
and  everv  one  that  was  discontented,"  and  became  a  leader 
over  tliem.  Hence  the  little  third  party  were  called 
"  AduUamites." 

Ft)r  eight  nights  the  reform  bill  was  debated  in  the 
House,  with  many  brilliant  and  eloquent  speeches.  Mr. 
Gladstone  linally  saw  that  his  bill  was  doomed.  He  said 
in  closing  a  noble  speech  :  "You  cannot  fight  against  tlie 
future.  Tim"^  is  on  our  side.  The  great  social  forces 
which  move  on  in  their  might  and  majesty,  and  which 
tlie  tumult  of  our  debates  does  not  for  a  moment  impede 
or  disturb,  —  those  great  social  forces  are  against  you; 


J, 


;.'  s 


I, 


M! 


i 


i  i 


;  I 


Ui 

H 

■^1 

. 

H 

^H 

I 

358 


TUE  EARL   OF  BEACON SFIELJ). 


they  are  marsliallcil  on  our  side,  and  tlie  banner  which 
we  now  carry,  though  perhaps  at  this  moment  it  may 
droop  over  our  sinking  lioads,  yet  soon  again  will  float 
in  the  eye  of  heaven,  and  it  will  be  borne  by  the  firm 
hands  of  the  united  people  of  the  three  kingdoms,  })er- 
haps  not  to  an  easy,  but  to  a  certain  and  a  not  distant 
victory." 

The  bill  was  defeated;  the  Liberal  ministry  resigned, 
and  Lord  Derby  became  Prime  Minister,  with  Disraeli 
again  Chancellor  of  the  Exchecpier. 

The  disfranchised  of  England  now  determined  to  make 
themselves  heard  by  Parliament.  Reform  leagues  and 
unions  were  formed  at  once.  Great  meetings  were  held 
demanding  the  francliise  for  the  working-people.  Great 
processions  i)assed  up  and  down  the  principal  thorough- 
fares of  London,  with  determined  faces  and  banners  that 
could  not  be  misunderstood.  Reform  or  revolution  was 
imminent.  There  was  a  riot  in  Hyde  Park,  and  a  few  per- 
sons were  stoned  and  injured,  but  usually  the  demands 
were  made  in  dignified  silence. 

Disraeli  knew  that  his  hour  for  action  had  come.  He 
knew  that  the  Tories  were  opposed  to  reform ;  that  he 
must  "  educate  "  them,  as  he  said  in  a  speech  at  a  ban- 
quet giv^en  in  his  honor  in  Edinburgh  :  "  I  had  to  prei)are 
the  mind  of  the  country,  —  to  educate,  if  it  be  not  too 
arrogant  to  use  such  a  phrase,  —  to  educate  our  party, 
which  is  a  large  party,  and,  of  course,  requires  its  atten- 
tion to  be  ci'lled  to  questions  of  this  character  with  some 
pressure ;  and  I  had  to  prepare  the  mind  of  Parliament 
and  of  the  country  in  this  question  of  reform."  He 
could  not  "  educate  "  three  of  his  Cabinet,  who  resigned 
at  once  —  Lord  Salisbury,  Secretary  for  India;  General 
Peel,  Secretary  for  War ;  and   Lord   Carnarvon,  Colonial 


THE  EAUL   OF  JiE.lCOysFIELD. 


850 


er  which 
t  it  may 
will  float 
tlie  flnii 
>ins,  j)er- 
)t  distant 


rosigned, 
Disraeli 

1  to  make 
,nies  and 
''ere  lield 
'.  Great 
horough- 
ners  that 
ition  was 
L  few  per- 
demands 

me.     He 

1  that  he 
at  a  baii- 
3  prei)are 
?  not  too 
ur  party, 
its  atten- 
ith  some 
,rliament 


m. 


)) 


He 

resigned 
General 
Colonial 


Secretary.  England  became  intensely  stirred  by  the 
debates.  Carlyi^  thought  the  country  Avoiild  go  to  de- 
struction through  the  broadened  franchise,  and  wrote 
"Shooting  Niagara."  England,  he  thouglit,  would  go 
over  the  rapids,  and  perhaps  disai)pear. 

One  nuin  knew  at  least  that  the  people  were  in  earnest 
in  their  demands,  and  that  the  Tories  could  not  remain 
in  power  unless  something  decisive  were  done.  True,  In; 
had  blamed  Peel  for  going  against  his  party  in  the  repeal 
of  the  Corn  Laws.  jNIr.  Disraeli  had  the  unusual  power 
to  carry  his  pn-rty  with  him,  willing  or  unwilling. 

After  the  most  heated  debates,  in  which  he  never 
lost  his  good  nature,  even  though  iie  often  cut  his  adver- 
saries to  the  quick  —  Disraeli  spoke  on  the  Keform  lUU 
no  less  than  three  hundred  and  ten  times  —  the  Keform 
Bill  passed  August  15,  1867.  It  was  virtually  household 
suffrage.  "  It  enfrancMsed  in  boroughs  all  male  house- 
holds rated  for  the  relief  of  the  poor,  and  all  lodgers 
resident  for  one  year,  and  paying  not  less  than  ten 
pounds  a  year  rent ;  and  in  counties,  persons  of  property 
of  the  clear  annual  value  of  five  pounds,  and  occupiers 
of  land  or  tenements  paying  twelve  pounds  a  year." 

Without  doubt  Mr.  Disraeli  had  gone  farther  than  he 
had  intended  at  first,  though  ""  Sybil  "  showed  how 
plainly  he  was  the  friend  of  the  workingman.  He  had 
some  fears  about  universal  suffrage,  as  he  had  had  about 
free  trade.  He  said  :  "  If  you  establish  a  democracy,  you 
must  in  due  season  reap  the  fruits  of  a  dv  mocracy.  You 
will  in  due  season  have  great  impatience  of  the  public 
burdens,  combined  in  due  season  with  great  increase  of 
the  public  expenditure.  You  will  in  due  season  have 
wars  entered  upon  from  passion  and  not  from  reason ; 
aud  you  will  in  due  season  submit  fo  peace  ignomini- 


1 


i 


!:!  < 


I. 


I  I  > 


111! 


i'! 


I   ) 


360 


THE  EAIiL   OF  liEACOXSFIELD. 


ously  sought  and  ignoraiitly  obtained,  wliicli  will  diminish 
your  authority  and  perhaps  endanger  yoi  independence. 
You  will,  in  due  season,  with  a  democracy,  find  that  your 
property  is  less  valuable,  and  that  your  freedom  is  less 
complete. 

"  T  doubt  not,  when  there  has  been  realized  a  sufficient 
qiumtity  of  disaffection  and  dismay,  the  good  sense  of 
tliis  country  will  come  to  the  raHy,  and  that  you  will 
obtain  some  remedy  for  your  grievances,  and  some 
redress  for  your  wrongs,  by  the  process  through  which 
alone  it  can  be  obtained;  by  that  process  which  may 
make  your  property  more  secure,  but  which  will  not 
render  your  liberty  more  eminent." 

The  Prime  Minister,  Lord  Derby,  pathetically  ex- 
claimed that  they  were  "taking  a  leap  in  the  dark; "and 
Mr.  Lowe,  obliged  to  accept  the  inevitable,  now  that 
people  *•'  who  lived  in  those  small  houses  "  were  enfran- 
chised, said,  "  We  must  now,  at  least,  educate  our  new 
masters."  Lord  Derby  soon  retired  on  account  of  ill 
health,  and  the  leader  of  his  party,  the  Jew  who  had 
fought  his  way  against  prejudice,  debts,  and  lack  of 
social  position,  accepted  the  highest  honor  which  the 
Queen  of  England  has  to  offer,  that  of  Prime  Minister. 
Although  he  had  been  called  "  the  Red  Indian  of  debate," 
and  an  adventurer,  he  had  won  his  position  by  his  ability 
a!id  his  determination.  He  went  down  to  Parliament 
wildly  cheered  by  the  crowds  along  the  streets,  in  Palace 
Yard,  and  in  the  House  itself.  The  world  admires  cour- 
age, and  is  glad  when  success  is  honorably  won.  How 
proud  the  devoted  wife  must  have  been !  Hoav  the  heart 
of  Benjamin  Disraeli  must  have  rejoiced  at  sixty-four,  to 
have  won  the  coveted  prize  !  Doubtless  he  recalled  the 
day  when  thirty  years  before  he  had  exclaimed  before  a 


TUE  EARL   OF  liEACONsFIKlD. 


im 


liminisli 
3ndence. 
hat  your 
L  is  less 

ufficient 
>eiise  of 
"ou  -will 
I  some 
1  which 
cli  may 
N^ill  not 

^lly    ex- 
k;"ancl 
i\v  that 
enfran- 
)ur  new 
t  of  ill 
lio  liad 
lack  of 
ich  the 
inister. 
abate," 
ability 
ianient 
Palace 
iS  cour- 
IIow 
^-  heart 
our,  to 
ed  the 
ifore  a 


jeering,  shouting  crowd  in  the  House  of  Commons :  '•  I 
have  begun  several  things,  many  times  — and  have  often 
succeeded  at  last.  Ay,  sir,  I  will  sit  down  now,  but  tlie 
time  will  come  when  you  will  hear  me."  And  the  time 
had  come. 

Mr.  Disraeli  did  not  long  retain  his  position,  as  in  a 
few  months  the  government  was  defeated  by  the  Liber- 
als under  Gladstone,  in  the  disestablishment  of  the  Irisli 
Church.  Disraeli  opposed  this  measure,  believing  that 
it  was  the  entering  wedge,  and  that  the  abolition  of  the 
State  Church  in  England  and  Scotland  would  follow. 
He  declared  that  "  the  sound  union  between  Church  and 
State  was  the  chief  means  of  our  civilization  and  the 
sole  guarantee  of  religious  liberty."  Of  course  the  Non- 
conformists and  the  Papists  were  against  him.  The 
former  had  no  sympathy  with  a  Church  established  by 
law  and  supported  by  the  State ;  the  latter  had  no  sym- 
pathy with  a  Protestant  Church  established  by  law  in  a 
Roman  Catholic  country. 

On  leaving  office  at  the  close  of  18G8,  the  Queen  wished 
to  give  Disraeli  a  title,  but  while  declining  for  himself, 
he  was  glad  to  accept  the  honor  for  Mrs.  Disraeli,  who 
became  Viscountess  Beaconsfield.  She  died  four  years 
later,  December  15,  1872,  and  was  buried  at  Hughenden. 

Having  more  leisure,  now  that  he  was  out  of  office, 
Disraeli  wrote  "Lothair,"  probably  his  greatest  novel, 
which  was  published  in  1870.  This,  like  all  his  other 
books,  is  written  with  a  purpose.  Lothair,  an  exceedingly 
rich  nobleman,  is  desired  by  the  Church  of  Rome  as  a  con- 
vert, and  to  this  end  he  is  courted  by  clever  monsignors 
and  charming  women.  He  is  saved  to  Protestantism 
by  Theodora,  an  Italian,  marrietl  to  an  American.  She 
is  one  of   the  leaders   in  the   struggles  of  Italy,   and 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

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S       ; ' 


if! 


362 


rz/^:  AMA'L   OF  BEACON SFIFAJ). 


receives  an  ideal  homage  from  Lothair.  She  is  a  remark- 
able woman,  and  is  finely  drawn  by  Disraeli. 

Wounded  on  the  field  of  battle  near  Rome,  and  lying 
on  her  death-bed,  she  says  to  Lothair,  "  It  is  the  last 
time  I  shall  speak  to  you,  and  I  wish  that  we  should  be 
alone.  There  is  something  much  on  my  mind  at  this 
moment,  and  you  can  relieve  it.  ...  I  know  your  life, 
for  you  have  told  it  me,  and  you  are  true.  I  know 
your  nature ;  it  is  gentle  and  brave,  but  perhaps  too  sus- 
ceptible. I  wished  it  to  be  susceptible  only  of  the  great 
and  good.  ]\Iark  me  !  I  have  a  vague  but  strong  con- 
viction that  there  will  be  another  and  a  more  powerful 
attempt  to  gain  you  to  the  Church  of  Rome.  If  I  have 
ever  been  to  you,  as  you  have  sometimes  said,  an  object 
of  kind  thoughts,  —  if  not  a  fortunate,  at  least  a  faith- 
ful friend,  —  promise  me  now,  at  this  hour  of  trial, 
with  all  the  solemnity  that  becomes  the  moment,  that 
you  will  never  enter  the  communion." 

"I  promise,"  said  Lothair. 

"And  now,"  she  said,  "embrace  me,  for  I  wish  that 
your  spirit  should  be  upon  me  as  mine  departs." 

Lothair  is  afterwards  wounded  in  battle,  and  left  for 
dead  on  the  field.  He  is  taken  to  a  hospital,  and  again 
his  Romish  friends  surround  and  influence  him.  Dis- 
turbed in  mind,  but  convalescing  in  body,  he  strays  out 
in  the  moonlight,  and  finds  himself  in  the  Coliseum. 

"He  sat  himself  down  on  a  block  of  stone  in  that 
sublime  and  desolate  arena,  and  asked  himself  the  secret 
spell  of  this  Rome  that  had  already  so  agitated  his  young 
life,  and  probably  was  about  critically  to  affect  it. 
Theodora  lived  for  Rome  and  died  for  Rome.  .  .  . 

"Was  it  a  breeze  in  a  l)ree/('less  night  that  was  sigh- 
ing amid  these  ruins  ?     A  piiui-tree   moved  its   head  on 


TUE  EAllL   OF  BEACON SFIKU). 


?>()g 


ro  murk- 
id  lying 
tlie  last 
lould  be 
at  til  is 
our  life, 
I  know 
too  sus- 
;lio  great 
ong  con- 
powerful 
[f  I  have 
n  object 
;  a  faith- 
of   trial, 
lent,  that 


/■ish  that 

L  left  for 
.nd  again 
m.  Dis- 
brays  out 
euui. 

in  that 
lie  secret 
is  young 
iffect    it. 

• 

\as  sigh- 
head  on 


a  broken  arch,  and  there  was  a  stir  among  the  plants 
that  hung  on  the  ancient  walls.  It  was  a  breeze  in  a 
breezeless  night  that  was  sighing  amid  the  ruins.  .  .  . 

"He  was  aroused  from  his  revery  by  the  indefinite 
sense  of  some  change  having  occurred,  which  often  dis- 
turbs and  terminates  one's  brooding  thoughts.  And, 
looking  round,  he  felt,  he  saw,  he  was  no  longer  [done. 
The  moonbeams  fell  upon  a  ligure  that  was  observing 
him  from  the  crag  of  ruin  that  was  near,  and,  as  the 
light  clustered  and  gathered  round  the  form,  it  became 
every  moment  more  definite  and  distinct.  .  .  , 

"'Lothair,'  said  a  deep  sweet  voice  that  never  could 
be  forgotten. 

"  '  I  am  here,'  he  at  last  replied. 

"  '  Remember ! '  and  she  threw  upon  him  that  glance 
at  once  serene  and  solemn,  that  had  been  her  last,  and 
was  impressed  indelibly  upon  his  heart  of  hearts. 

"Now  he  coidd  spring  forward,  and  throw  himself 
at  her  feet ;  but,  alas !  as  he  reached  her,  the  figure 
melted  into  the  moonlight,  and  she  was  gone; — that 
divine  Theodora,  who,  let  us  hope,  returned  at  last  to 
those  Elysian  fields  she  so  well  deserved." 

The  spell  was  broken,  and  he  remained  ever  after  true 
to  his  Protestant  faith. 

"Lothair"  had  an  immense  sale.  A  single  firm  in 
America  sold  twenty-five  thousand  copies  during  the  first 
month,  and  seven  editions  ap})eared  in  a  few  weeks. 
It  was  soon  translated  into  almost  all  languages.  Dis- 
raeli himself  said  that  it  had  been  '•  more  extensively 
read  both  by  the  people  of  the  United  Kingdom  and 
the  United  States,  than  any  work  that  has  appeared  in 
the  last  half-century." 

Disraeli  writes,  says  I'roudo,  "  as  a  man  of  the  world, 


I 


1! 


) 


364 


THE  EARL   OF  JiEACOXSFIELl). 


with  perfect  mastery  of  his  material,  without  a  taint  ot 
ill-nature ;  with  a  frank  perception  of  the  many  and 
great  excellences  of  the  patrician  families,  of  the  charm 
and  spirit  of  the  high-born  matrons  and  girls,  of  the 
noble  capabilities  of  their  fathers  and  brothers,  i)aralyzed 
by  the  enchantment  which  condemns  them  to  useless- 
ness.  They  stand  on  the  canvas  like  the  heroes  and 
heroines  of  Vandyck;  yet  the  sense  never  leaves  us 
that  they  are  but  flowers  of  the  hot-house,  artificially 
forced  into  splendor,  with  no  root  in  outer  nature,  and, 
therefore,  of  no  continuance."  This  patrician  society,  at 
the  time  the  book  was  written,  ''was  then  in  its  most 
brilliant  period,  like  the  full  bloom  of  a  flower  which 
opens  fully  only  to  fade." 

In  1874  Disraeli  again  became  Prime  Minister,  the 
Liberals  being  defeated  on  the  Irish  University  Bill. 
He  had  already  been  chosen  Lord  Rector  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Glasgow. 

He  was  then  nearly  seventy  years  of  age.  For  six 
years  he  governed  the  country  much  as  Palmerston  had 
done,  with  the  same  popular  and  absolute  sway.  He 
gave  much  thought  to  domestic  interests.  Among  the 
measures  passed  through  his  influence  were  the  Fa(;tory 
Acts,  Mercantile  Shipping  Act,  Artisans'  Dwellings  Act, 
and  the  like.  He  made  some  enemies  by  his  support  of 
the  I'ublic  Worship  liegulation  Act,  which  gave  to  the 
bishops  the  power  to  prohibit  })ractices  which  they  con- 
sidered improper.  It  was  in  the  interests  of  the  Anti- 
Ritualists,  and  has  not  been  productive  of  great  results. 

In  1876,  through  Disraeli's  influence,  the  Royal  Titles 
Act  was  passed,  enabling  the  Queen  to  assume  the  title 
of  Empress  of  India.  It  met  with  decided  opposition 
from   most  Liberals,  who  did  not  like  an  increase  of 


THE  EARL   OF  BEACON SFIELD. 


0/>  "■ 


H 


taint  of 
any  and 
le  charm 
of  tlio 
aralyzed 

useless- 
•oes  and 
3aves  ns 
tiiicially 
Lire,  and, 
)ciety,  at 
its  most 
IV  wliicli 

iter,  the 

ity  Bin. 

Univer- 

For  six 
ton  had 
ay.     He 
long  the 
Factory 
igs  Act, 
)port  of 
!  to  the 
ley  con- 
le  Anti- 
results. 
1  Titles 
lie  title 
)osition 
ease  of 


power  in  a  sovereign,  and  from  many  mombors  both  in 
the  Lords  and  Commons  who  considered  it  an  unwise 
and  impolitic  innovation,  both  as  regards  the  United 
Kingdom  and  India.  But  Disraeli,  from  the  first  of  his 
official  life,  had  believed  in  greater  power  for  the  mon- 
arch, and  he  desired,  also,  to  make  Kussia  stand  in  awe 
of  an  em})ire. 

That  the  Queen  was  pleased  with  this  new  proof  of 
loyalty  was  but  natural ;  and  the  country  was  not  sur- 
prised when  in  August  of  the  same  year,  1876, 
Disraeli  became  the  Earl  of  Beaeonsfield,  and  the 
leader  of  the  House  of  Lords.  "  Dizzy "  —  the  pet 
name  by  which  the  Englishmen  called  him — had 
reached  heights  of  which  he  had  scarcely  dared  to 
dream.  He  was  henceforward  to  be  the  friend  of 
princes  and  emperors. 

The  everlasting  Eastern  Question  had  again  come  to 
the  front.  Turkey,  as  usual,  had  oppressed  her  subjects, 
and  was  detested  by  every  country  over  which  she  ruled. 
Insurrections  had  broken  out  in  Crete,  in  the  Herze- 
govina, and  other  provinces,  and  had  been  quenched  as 
Kussia  quenched  Poland,  —  in  the  blood  of  men  and 
women. 

Other  insurrections  began  in  Bosnia  and  in  Herzegovina 
The  Turks  insisted  that  Russia  aided  these  people,  \vh« 
were  Christians,  against  their  enemies  and  masters,  tlie 
Turks,  who  were  Mohammedans.  Count  Andrassy,  the 
Austrian  minister,  drew  up  a  protest  to  the  Porte,  in 
which  Austria,  Germany,  and  Kussia  demanded  that 
Turkey  carry  out  the  promises  she  had  made.  As  ever 
before,  she  promised  all  things,  and  did  nothing. 

A  revolution  took  place  in  Constantinople,  and  Sultan 
Abdul  Aziz  was  dethroned,  and  at  once  comiuitti'd  sui- 


H 


ii 


lij 


366 


THE  EAIiL   OF  BEACON SFIELI). 


cide.  Bulgaria,  too,  lia<l  revolted,  and  Turkey  had  sent 
Bashi-Bazouks  to  crush  them.  They  did  their  work  in 
a  hideous  manner.  The  English  papers  were  tilled  with 
the  atrocities.  Lord  Beaconsfield  did  not  believe  what 
he  called  "coffee-house  babble,"  and  Englishmen  were 
sent  to  Bulgaria  to  ascertain  the  facts. 

The  dreadful  details  of  the  massacre  of  women  and 
children  proved  too  true.  In  Philippopolis  alone,  twelv^e 
thousand  persons  had  been  killed.  ]\rr.  Gladstone  pub- 
lished a  pamphlet,  entitled  "  Bulgarian  Horrors,  and  the 
Question  of  the  East,"  which  aroused  the  Etiglish 
peojile  to  a  white  heat  of  indignation. 

Lord  Beaconsfield  still  looked  upon  Turkey  as  essen- 
tial to  the  balance  of  power  in  Europe,  and  wished  to 
maintain  her,  at  all  hazards,  as  a  check  to  Kussia. 
Gladstone  demanded  that  the  Christian  provinces  be 
left  to  govern  themselves,  and  that  England  should  no 
longer  seem  to  countenance  the  crimes  of  Turkey. 

In  June,  1876,  Servia  and  IMontenegro  declared  war 
against  Turkey.  Servia  was  defeated.  Russia  inter- 
vened, and  obtained  an  armistice.  Public  meetings  were 
held,  and  Gladstone  moved  the  whole  nation  by  liis 
eloquence  not  to  aid  Turkey  by  arms,  though  Bassian 
oppression  was  feared  as  ever. 

Beaconsfield,  like  Palmerston,  seemed  ready  for 
battle,  if,  thereby,  England  could  be  held  up  to  tlie 
world  as  a  great  and  controlling  power.  At  the  Lord 
Mayor's  banquet  at  the  Guildhall,  November  9,  1876,  he 
declared  that  England  was  prepared  for  war.  "  In  a 
righteous  cause,  England  is  not  the  country  that  will 
have  to  inquire  whether  she  can  enter  upon  a  second  or 
a  third  campaign.  In  a  righteous  cause,  England  will 
commence  a  fight  that  will  not  end  until  right  is  doue." 


THE  EARL   OF  nEACOySFIELI). 


■t 


liiid  scut- 
work  ill 
led  with 
ive  wliat 
en  were 

nen  and 
,  twelve 

)ne  pub- 
and  tlie 
English 

-s  essen- 
ished  to 
Kiissia. 
inces  be 
lould  no 

ired  war 
a  inter- 
iigs  were 
by  liis 
llassian 

ady  for 
)  to  the 
he  Lord 
1876,  he 
"In  a 
liat  wull 
cond  or 
and  will 
3  done." 


Conferences  of  the  Great  Towers  were  arranged,  but 
came  to  nothing.  Turkey  rejected  all  proposals.  Then 
Russia  declared  war  against  Turkey,  April  24,  1877. 
At  the  battle  of  Plevna,  the  Turks  were  victorious,  and 
fought  bravely  under  Osman  Pasha. 

The  tide  soon  turned.  General  Todleben,  the  Russian 
hero  of  the  Crimean  War,  was  placed  in  command. 
Kars  was  taken  by  assault  of  the  Russians,  November  18, 
1877,  and  Plevna  surrendered  December  10.  Then  the 
Servians  and  Montenegrins  joined  Russia  against  their 
hated  rulers,  the  Turks,  advanced  through  Bulgaria,  and 
threatened  Constantinople  in  January,  1878. 

The  war  party  in  England  grew  stronger  than  ever. 
Some  Liberals  favored  it,  and  nearly  all  the  Tories. 
The  music-halls  and  public-houses  rang  with  a  war-soug 
containing  the  refrain,  — 

"We  don't  want  to  figlit,  but  by  jingo,  if  we  do, 
We've  got  the  ships,  we've  got  the  men, 
We've  got  the  money  too." 

The  war  party  soon  became  known  as  the  Jingo  Party, 
and  the  Jingoes  were  proud  of  their  title.  Monster 
meetings  were  held  in  Hyde  Park,  both  in  favor  of  and 
and  against  war  with  Russia.  Some  could  not  forget 
the  horrors  of  the  Crimea  under  the  rule  of  Palmerston. 
Some  felt,  like  John  Bright,  that  the  "balance  of 
power  "  Was  a  myth ;  that,  instead  of  lighting  each  other, 
Russia  and  England  should  join  hands  to  Christianize 
Asia. 

Finally  word  came  that  Turkey  was  conquered,  and 
that  the  Treaty  of  San  Stefano  had  been  signed  between 
Turkey  and  Russia,  in  jNIarch,  1878,  whereby  Bulgaria, 
extending  from  the  Danube  to  the  iEgean,  and,  stretch- 


'  ti 


ft 


Jki 


308 


TUJi:  EARL   OF  BEACON SFIELD. 


I  f 


I  .  > 


ing  inland  to  the  western  boundaries  of  ^Macedonia,  was 
to  be  an  independent  State,  with  a  seaport  on  the  yEgean 
Sea. 

Lord  Beaconsfield  objected  to  this  treaty,  declaring 
that  it  would  place  the  whole  south-east  of  Europe 
directly  under  Russian  influence.  Eussia  felt  that  slu- 
had  a  right  to  make  any  terms  with  prostrate  Turkey 
which  she  chose.  Of  course  this  was  not  possible,  ii 
Turkey  was  to  be  "  protected,"  for  the  sake  of  peace  (?) 
in  Europe. 

The  English  fleet  in  the  Mediterranean  was  ordered 
through  the  Dardanelles,  and  anchored  near  Constanti- 
nople. Native  troops  were  ordered  from  India  to  occupy 
Cyprus,  and  to  make  an  armed  landing  on  the  coast  of 
Syria.  Lord  Derby,  Foreign  Secretary,  at  once  resigned, 
as  also  Lord  Carnarvon,  secretary  for  the  Colonies. 
Beaconsfield  stood  firm,  and  war  with  Russia  seemed 
inevitajle.  England  was  in  a  state  of  great  agitation, 
but  the  majority  were  with  the  Prime  Minister.  He 
believed  in  England,  and  when  the  doctrine  of  English 
interests  was  called  selfish,  he  said,  "  It  is  as  selfish  as 
patriotism.'^ 

Prince  Bismarck  now  became  a  mediator,  and  sug- 
gested a  congress  to  be  held  at  Berlin,  to  discuss  the 
Treaty  of  San  Stefano.  To  this  congress  Lord  Beacons- 
field went  in  person,  accompanied  by  Lord  Salisbury,  the 
Foreign  Secretary. 

His  journey  thither  was  a  matter  of  the  greatest  inter- 
est. At  every  city  crowds  gathered  to  see  tlie  Jewish 
author  and  statesman,  who  had  risen  to  the  highest 
place  in  England,  unaided  «ave  by  his  own  strong  will 
and  brain. 

Prince   Bismarck    presided    at   the   congress   in    the 


TUE  EARL   OF  BEACON SFIELD. 


369 


donia,  was 
he  -^'Egean 

declaring 
)f  Europe 
t  that  she 
te  Turkey 
jossible,  il 
:  peace  (?) 

as  ordered 
Constanti- 
i  to  occupy 
le  coast  of 
!e  resigned, 
Colonies. 
3ia  seemed 
;  agitation, 
lister.  He 
of  English 
3  selfish  as 

:,  and  sug- 
discuss  tlu' 
I'd  Beacon s- 
lisbury,  the 

satest  inter- 
tlie  Jewish 
he  highest 
strong  will 

ess   in    the 


S|i' 


Kadzivill  Palace.  After  much  discussion  the  Treaty  of 
Berlin  was  effected,  and  Russia  and  England  were  saved 
from  a  terrible  war.  By  this  treaty  Bulgaria,  north  of 
the  Balkans,  was  made  an  independent  state,  yet  tribu- 
tary to  the  Sultan ;  Bulgaria,  south  of  the  Balkans, 
called  Eastern  llounielia,  was  to  be  under  the  direct 
rule  of  the  Porte  ;  Montejiegro  was  declared  independ- 
ent ;  also  Servia  and  lloumania ;  Kars,  Batoum,  and 
Ardahun  were  ceded  to  Russia;  and  the  Porte  once 
more  promised  reforms. 

In  Berlin,  Beaconsfield  was  the  lion  of  the  occasion. 
Bismarck  had  great  appreciation  of  his  genius.  Georg 
Brandes,  the  author,  saw  him  in  Berlin  as  he  was 
going  to  the  congress,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  his  private 
secretary.  "  Over-exertion,"  he  says,  "  was  evident  in 
every  line  of  his  countenance,  and  he  acknowledged  the 
deep  and  respectful  salutations  of  the  good  citizens  of 
15erlin  with  a  weary  and  mechanical  movement  of  his 
hand  to  his  hat.  But  as  I  gazed  into  his  pale  and  hag- 
gard face,  I  involuntarily  thought  of  all  the  conflicts  he 
had  passed  through,  the  disappointments  he  had  experi- 
enced, the  agonies  and  torments  he  had  suffered,  and  the 
lofty  courage  with  which  he  had  triumphed  over  them 
all." 

When  Lord  Beaconsfield  returned  to  England,  he  was 
met  with  the  wildest  enthusiasm.  At  Dover  he  spoke 
to  the  thousands  who  assembled  to  greet  him,  saying  he 
had  brought  back  "Peace  with  Honor."  At  Charing 
Cross  he  was  met  by  the  Lord  Mayor  in  his  robes  of 
office,  and  a  brilliant  assemblage  of  the  noted  in  poli- 
tics and  fashion.  Triumphal  arches  spanned  the  streets, 
banners  waved,  and  thousands  of  workingmen  thronged 
the  way  from  the  station  to  Downing  Street. 


1 


ii 


370 


TUE  EAUL   OF  BEACON SFIELD. 


II 


if 


On  July  27  Boaconsfield  and  Salisbury  were  enter- 
tained at  a  great  bancjiiet  by  tlie  members  of  the  Con- 
servative party,  in  the  Hiding  Sehool  at  Kensington. 
Later  both  received  the  Freedom  of  the  City  of  London, 
and  another  grand  banrpiet  was  given  in  their  honor  at 
the  GuiUliiall.  The  Queen  bestowed  upon  lieaconsticld 
the  mueh-eoveted  honor  of  the  Garter.  Fame  had  indeed 
eome  :  all  he  could  ask  or  wish. 

There  was  of  course  some  dissatisfaction  with  the 
Treaty  of  IJerlin,  as  there  always  is.  Tlie  secret  treaties 
made  with  Kussia  and  Turkey  before  the  IJerlin  Treaty 
were  severely  criticised.  By  the  former  it  was  agreed 
to  give  to  Tvussia,  Batoum,  Kars,  and  l^essarabia,  and  to 
divide  Bulgaria.  By  the  latter,  Cyprus  was  handed  over 
to  the  British,  if  Englaiul  would  guarantee  to  defend 
Turke}'  in  her  Asiatic  dominions. 

The  spirit  of  war  or  jingoism,  once  aroused,  was 
destined  to  bear  bitter  fruit.  England  determined  that 
Afghanistan  should  be  friendly  to  herself  rather  than 
to  Russia,  and  wished  to  have  a  permanent  resident  in 
Cabul.  To  this  Shere  Ali,  the  son  of  Dost  Maliommed, 
objected.  A  strong  force,  whicli  resembled  an  army, 
was  sent  thither  in  September,  1878,  and  S(jon  Cabul 
and  Candahar  were  occupied  by  the  English.  Shere  Ali 
fled  from  his  capital,  died,  and  Yakoob  Khan,  his  son, 
became  his  successor.  The  son,  now  the  Ameer,  by  the 
Treaty  of  Gandamak,  where  the  British  cjini})  was  estab- 
lished, agreed,  on  account  of  receiving  from  the  India 
Government  sixty  thousand  pounds  a  year,  to  cede  what 
Lord  Beaconsfield  called  the  "  scientitic  frontier,"  so  that 
India  should  be  made  safe  from  any  attack  by  Russia 
through  Afghanistan.  Tlie  Ameer  was  to  be  supported 
with  money  and  arms,  and  men  if  need  be,  against  any 
i'oreign  power. 


THE  EAJiL   OF  liKACONSFlELD. 


;37l 


'ere  eiiter- 
f  the  Coii- 
ensington. 
^)f  Loiuloii, 
I'  lioiior  lit 
L'aconsHt'ld 
Kid  indeed 

with  the 
•et  treaties 
liii  Treaty 
ras  agreed 
)ia,  and  to 
aided  over 
to  defend 

used,  Avas 
lined  that 
Lther  tliiiu 
esident  in 
alioinined, 
an  army, 
jon  Cabul 
Shere  Ali 
1,  his  son, 
er,  by  tlie 
was  estab- 
the  India 
cede  wliat 
r,"so  that 
by  Russia 
supported 
jainst  any 


Very  soon  there  was  an  uprising  against  the  English 
envoy  and  his  staff  in  Cabul,  and  they  were  all  mur- 
dered. Of  course  Cabul  was  again  invaded.  Yakoob 
Khan,  accused  of  eomplicity  in  the  murders,  was  sent  a 
prisoner  to  India. 

Ayoob  Ivhan,  another  son  of  Shere  Ali,  had  raised 
an  army,  and  now  attacked  the  I^ritish  army  of  two 
thousand  which  came  out  to  meet  him  from  Candah.-ir. 
His  forces  were  under-estimated.  He  had  twelve  thou- 
sand men,  and  more  than  three  times  as  many  guns  as 
the  English.  The  English  and  Indian  troops  were  cut 
to  pieces.  Those  who  did  not  fail  by  the  bullet  were 
despatched  with  Afghan  knives.  Men  and  mules  and 
camels  lay  piled  dead  along  the  road  in  their  flight  back 
to  Candahar.  The  defeat  at  jNIaiwand  of  course  occa- 
sioned great  sorrow  in  England.  They  denounced  the 
"  scientiiic  frontier,"  and  wished  they  had  never  heard 
of  Afghanistan.  Later  a  force  of  ten  thousand  men, 
under  General  Sir  Frederick  Roberts,  was  sent  from 
Cabul  to  avenge  Candahar,  and  totally  defeated  Ayoob 
Khan  and  his  army.  Afterwards  Candahar  was  given 
back  to  the  Ameer  of  Afghanistan. 

Beacons  field  had  another  unpleasant  war,  —  that  with 
the  Zulus,  the  most  important  tribe  in  South  Africa. 
Cetewayo,  the  chief,  often  quarrelled  with  his  neighboring 
tribe,  the  IJoers  or  the  Dutch  occupants  of  the  Transvaal 
Re})ublic.  A  dis})ute  about  a  strip  of  land  was  settled 
by  English  arbitration,  and  the  land  given  to  Cetewayo, 
but  not  until  the  chief  had  become  distrustful  of  Sir 
Bartle  Erere,  the  Lord  High  Commissioner  from  England. 

Cetewayo  began  to  defend  his  country,  for  self-protec- 
tion he  said.  Sir  Bartle  Frere  declared  that  the  Zulu 
army  must  be  disbanded.     As  it  was  not,  the  English 


ii' 


'!:! 


rMS 


i'l 


*i 


I .  ft 


I 


;  1 


<     la 


tlii 


372 


THE  EAllL  OF  ni'JACOysFIKLD. 


troops  marolied  at  once  into  the  Zulu  country  and  nu't 
with  a  terribU'  (hifeat  at  Isandhlwana,  .January  --,  1.S7'.). 
The  assegais  of  the  half-naked  savages  did  their  bloody 
work. 

The  young  rrinco  Louis  Napoleon,  who  had  studied 
at  th(!  military  schools  in  England,  had  joined  in  tliis 
war,  and  was  surprised  and  killed  while  lea|)ing  into  his 
saddle;  his  naked  body  found  de.'ul  in  the  long  grass 
afterwards,  with  his  mother's  picture  tied  about  his 
neck.  Fourteen  wounds  showed  that  Zidu  spears  had 
no  respect  for  even  royalty.  All  England  mourned  the 
fate  of  the  young  heir  to  the  throne  of  France,  and 
sorrowed  in  the  crushing  sorrow  of  the  lonely  Empress 
Eugenie. 

Lord  Beaconsfield  said,  "  A  very  remarkable  people 
the  Zulus  :  they  defeat  our  generals,  they  convert  our 
bishops,  they  have  settled  the  fate  of  a  great  European 
dynasty." 

Cetewayo  was  afterwards  captured  and  imprisoned, 
and  his  country  divided  among  native  chiefs.  He  was 
brought  to  England  in  1882,  and  later  sent  back  to 
Africa  to  be  restored  to  his  dominion.  He  was  defeated 
soon  after  in  a  war  with  another  chief,  and  died  of  heart 
disease. 

The  Transvaal  Republic  had  been  annexed  to  England 
unwillingly.  It  seemed  as  though  the  imperial  Beacons- 
field  were  to  make  of  England  one  vast  empire.  Eni[)ires 
in  India  and  in  South  Africa  were  to  redound  to  the 
glory  of  the  British  Isles. 

All  along,  the  Liberals  of  England  had  sympathized 
with  the  Boers  in  their  desires  for  freedom.  ]Mr.  (} lad- 
stone  had  said,  in  his  jMidlothian  speeches,  November 
25,  1879 :  "  The  Transvaal  is  a  country  where  we  have 


I 


TflK  EATiL    OF  IIEACOXSFIKLD. 


373 


V  iind  mot 
•  L'l',  1.S7!). 
-'ir  bloody 

ul  studied 
-'d  in  this 
i,'  into  liis 
oiig  grass 
about  liis 
pL'iirs  luid 
urued  the 
■imct',  and 
^  Empress 

)lc  people 

uivert  our 

Euroi)eau 

n  prisoned, 
lie  was 
'j  back  to 
s  defeated 
d  of  heart 

3  EnjTland 

i  lieacons- 

Empires 

[id  to  the 

ni)athized 

Mr.  (Jlad- 

^^ovember 

we  have 


chosen,  most  unwisely,  I  am  tempted  to  say  insanely,  to 
plane  ourselves  in  the  stran*;e  predicament  of  the  free 
subjects  of  a  monarchy,  j;oin<jf  to  coerce  the  free  subjects 
of  a  republic,  and  to  compel  them  to  accept  a  citizenship 
which  they  decline  and  refuse.  ...  Is  it  not  wonderful 
to  those  who  are  freemen,  and  whose  fathers  had  been 
freemen,  and  who  ho^jo  that  their  children  will  be  free- 
men, and  who  consider  that  freedom  is  an  essential  con- 
dition of  civil  life,  and  that  without  it  you  can  have 
nothing  great  and  nothing  noble  in  political  society  — 
that  we  are  led  by  an  administration,  and  led,  I  admit, 
by  l*arliament,  to  find  ourselves  in  this  position,  that  we 
are  to  march  upon  another  body  of  freemen,  and  against 
their  will  to  subject  them  to  despotic  government  ?  " 

The  I?oers  of  the  Transvaal  revolted,  and  surrounded 
and  butchered  their  conquerors  at  Majuba  Hill,  February 
27, 1881.  Three  years  later  the  South  African  llepublic, 
the  Transvaal,  became  completely  independent. 

]\Ieantime  the  imperial  policy  had  lost  popularity  with 
the  nation  ;  there  was  distress  among  the  agricultural 
classes  ;  the  Irish  were  disaffected  because  Lord  Beacons- 
field  thought  Home  Rule  "  scarcely  less  disastrous  than 
pestilence  and  famine,"  and  the  people  wished  a  change 
of  jjowcr.  The  Conservatives  were  defeated  in  1880, 
and  Gladstone  again  became  Trime  Minister. 

Lord  lieaconstield  was  seventy-six  years  old.  He 
went  back  to  the  trees  and  flowers  of  Hughenden — he 
loved  his  trees  so  much  that  he  directed  in  his  will  that 
none  of  them  should  be  cut  down  —  and  spent  his  leis- 
ure in  writing  his  last  novel,  "Endymion."  He  loved 
to  write,  and  since  the  ineonu?  from  his  wife's  estate 
ended  with  her  life,  he  needed  more  money.  The  book 
brought  him  ten  thousand  i»ounds. 


1 1   'I 


I 


I   'i 


374 


THE  EARL   OF  BEACON SFIELD. 


Ti; 


In  March,  1881,  he  suffered  from  an  attack  of  bron- 
chitis. For  four  weeks  the  public  made  anxious  inqui- 
ries about  the  change  in  his  healtli  from  day  to  day. 
The  Queen  was  deeply  anxious,  and  wished  to  visit  him, 
but  was  dissuaded  by  the  physicians;  the  workingnien 
were  equally  anxious.  On  Monday  night,  April  18,  fol- 
lowing Easter  Sunday,  Lord  Beaconsfield  sank  into  a 
stupor.  At  half-past  four  on  the  morning  of  Tuesday, 
April  19,  his  right  hand  in  the  clasp  of  his  friends  Lord 
]^arrington  and  Lord  Rowton,  formerly  VLv.  ]\Iontagu 
Corry,  his  private  secretary,  and  his  left  hand  in  that 
of  Dr.  Kidd,  he  died. 

Westminster  Abbey  was  offered  for  a  public  funeral, 
but,  by  his  own  desire,  he  was  buried  in  the  vault  at 
Hughenden  Church  by  the  side  of  his  devoted  wife,  and 
his  admiring  friend  Mrs.  Willy ams.  The  great  [ind  the 
lowly,  royalty  and  peasant,  gathered  at  that  open  grave. 
The  Prince  of  Wales,  the  Duke  of  Connaught,  and 
Prince  Leopold  brought  wreaths  and  the  sympjithy  of 
their  royal  mother.  Beside  them  stood  the  sole  surviving 
brother,  Ralph  Disra'^di,  and  his  son  Coningsby,  a  lad  of 
fourteen,  to  whom  the  estate  of  Hughenden  is  entailed 
by  will. 

The  coffin  was  hidden  with  flowers,  since  ilowers  liad 
been  his  special  delight  from  boyhood.  The  Queen  sent 
his  favorite  blossom,  a  wreath  of  primroses,  gathered 
that  morning  from  the  lawn  at  Osborne.  It  has  now 
become  the  emblem  of  his  party,  and  l*rimrose  Leagues 
are  scattered  over  England.  The  day  of  his  death  is 
still  observed  as  Primrose  Day. 

The  Queen  sent  also  a  wn'ath  of  everlasting  flowers 
and  bay -leaves,  tied  with  a  wliite  satin  ribbon,  on  which 
were  these  words  embroidered   in    gold:   "From  Queen 


TUE  EAllL   OF  BEACONS  FIELD. 


375 


3k  of  bron- 
:ious  inqui- 
ry to  day. 

0  visit  him, 
orkiiigiiieii 

n-il  18,  fol- 
ank  into  a 
f  Tuesday, 
iends  Lord 
Montagu 

'lid  in  that 

lie  funeral, 
le  vault  at 

1  wife,  and 
'at  and  the 
^pen  grave, 
night,  and 
mpathy  of 
e  survivintr 
)y,  a  lad  of 
is  entailed 

owers  had 
InvQu  sent 
,  gathered 
J  has  now 
e  Leagues 
i  death  is 

ig  flowers 

on  wliich 

)in  Queen 


Victoria.  A  mark  of  true  affection,  friendship,  and 
regret." 

On  the  turf  beside  the  grave,  were  many  floral  offer- 
ings, one  bearing  the  words:  "Peace  with  Ifonor." 
Within  the  coffin  was  placed  a  solid  silver  casket, 
weighing  two  pounds,  which  had  long  been  in  the  Dis- 
raeli family,  containing  a  portrait  of  the  deceased  Earl. 

Two  days  after  Lord  Beaconsfield  was  buried.  Queen 
Victoria  and  Princess  Beatrice  came  to  Hughenden, 
April  30,  to  visit  the  grave  of  their  honored  dead.  He 
liad  idob'zed  his  Queen,  and  she  had  deep  regard  for  her 
loyal  and  trusted  subject.  They  went  d*.  'vn  into  the 
vault,  and  placed  a  wreath  of  white  camellias  on  his 
coffin,  and  took  a  last  and  sorrowing  farewell  of  the 
man  who  had  worshipped  womanhood,  and  who  was 
proud  to  serve  his  Queen.  He  directed  in  his  will  that 
no  correspondence  with  her  should  ever  be  published 
without  her  consent  and  approval.  Those  both  in  favor 
of  and  opposed  to  his  political  beliefs,  could  but  admire 
with  Lord  Granville  "  his  rare  and  splendid  gifts,"  and, 
with  the  Marquis  of  Salisbury,  "his  patience,  his  gentle- 
ness, his  unswerving  and  unselfish  loyalty  to  his  col- 
leagues and  fellow-laborers,"  and  "his  passion  for  the 
greatness  of  his  country." 

Mr.  Gladstone  said  :  "The  career  of  Lord  Beaconsfield 
is,  in  many  respects,  the  most  remarkable  one  in  Parlia- 
mentary history.  For  my  own  part,  I  know  but  one  that 
can  fairly  be  compared  to  it  in  regard  to  the  emotion  of 
surprise,  and  when  viewed  as  a  whole,  an  emotion,  I 
might  almost  say,  of  wonder ;  a^d  that  is  the  career,  and 
especially  the  earlier  career,  of  ^h\  l*itt.  .  .  . 

"  His  extraordinary  intellectual  powers  are  as  well 
understood  by  others  as  by  me.  .  .  .  But  there  were 


Mi 


1  ii 


I  ill 


376 


Tnil  EARL   OF  liEACONHFIEtt). 


I    ■  1 


i   \M 


?       !: 


!  i  i 


other  great  qualities  —  qualities  not  merely  intellectual, 
in  the  sense  of  being  dissociated  from  conduct,  but  qual- 
ities immediately  connected  with  conduct,  with  regard  to 
which  I  should  say,  were  I  a  younger  man,  that  I  should 
like  to  stamp  the  recollection  of  them  on  myself  for  my 
own  future  guidance.  .  .  .  There  were  qualities  not  only 
written  in  a  marked  manner  on  his  career,  but  possessed 
by  him  in  a  degree  undoubtedly  extraordinary.  I  speak 
for  example,  of  such  as  these  —  his  strength  of  will ;  his 
long-sighted  persistency  of  purpose,  reaching  from  the 
first  entrance  on  the  avenue  of  life  to  its  very  close ;  his 
remarkable  powers  of  self-government ;  and  last,  but  not 
least,  of  all,  his  great  parliamentary  courage." 

A  part  of  Lord  Beaconsfield's  wonderful  mastery  over 
men  came,  of  course,  from  his  wonderful  mastery  over 
self.  He  could  be  calm  when  others  were  wild  with 
anger.  He  was  self-centred,  with  few  or  no  intimates. 
He  was  genuine  and  lasting  in  his  friendship.  He  was 
magnanimous  to  foes,  and  cherished  no  animosities. 

To  Carlyle,  who  had  called  him  "  a  superlative  Hebrew 
conjurer,  spell-binding  all  the  great  lords,  great  parties, 
great  interests,  of  England  to  his  hand  in  this  manner, 
and  leading  them  by  the  nose  like  helpless  mesmerized 
somnambulist  cattle  to  such  issue,"  Beaconsfield  offered, 
and  urged  to  accept,  the  Grand  Cross  of  the  Bath,  with 
a  life  income  corresponding  to  such  rank,  an  honor 
never  before  conferred  upon  an  English  author.  The 
"  Sage  of  Chelsea  "  declined  the  honor,  but  he  was  grati- 
fied at  the  courtesy. 

John  Leech  had  satirized  him  for  twenty  years  in 
Punch,  but  he  continued  Leecli's  pension  to  his  wife  and 
children,  which  would  have  been  discontinued  at  his 
death. 


t ! : 


■  I 


f  intellectual, 
uet,  but  qual- 
'^ith  regard  to 
that  I  should 
yself  for  my 
ities  not  only 
mt  possessed 
'ly.     I  speak 

of  will ;  his 
ng  from  the 
vy  close ;  his 

last,  but  not 

nastery  over 
lastery  over 
3  wild  with 
3  intimates, 
p.     He  was 
osities. 
ive  Hebrew 
eat  parties, 
lis  manner, 
mesmerized 
eld  offered, 
Bath,  with 
,  an    honor 
thor.     The 
i  was  grati- 


THE  SAUL  OF  BEACON SFIELD. 


B77 


En-land  has  not  forgotten  her  renowned  Prime 
Minis°ter.  On  April  19,  1883,  a  bronze  statue  of  Lord 
Beaconsfield  was  unveiled  in  Parliament  Square,  in 
the  presence  of  Lord  Salisbury,  Sir  Stafford  Northcote, 
and  a  great  host  of  other  friends  and  admirers. 


'    I 


i''i 


r  years  in 
is  wife  and 
led  at   his 


» 


% 


U 


HENRY  FAWCETT. 


HENRY  FAWCETT,  the  blind  Postmaster-General 
of  England,  was  born  at  Salisbury,  August  26, 
1833.  His  father,  William  Fawcett,  a  draper,  was  a 
man  of  great  vigor  of  body,  genial  temperament,  a  good 
political  speaker,  and  became  Mayor  of  Salisbury.  His 
mother,  Mary  Cooper,  the  daughter  of  a  solicitor,  was 
a  woman  of  strong  common-sense,  deeply  interested  in 
politics,  and  an  ardent  reformer. 

The  boy,  Henry,  active,  enthusiastic,  and  merry,  was 
placed  at  a  small  dame-school.  That  he  did  not  help  the 
quiet  and  order  of  it  is  manifest  from  a  remark  made  by 
him  to  his  mother :  "  Mrs.  Harris  says  that  if  we  go  on, 
we  shall  kill  her,  and  we  do  go  on,  and  yet  she  does  not 
die  ! " 

At  the  age  of  eight  the  boy  was  sent  to  the  school  of 
Mr.  Sopp,  at  Alderbury,  five  miles  from  Salisbury.  He 
was  not  especially  pleased,  as  his  letters  home  show. 
He  writes,  "  I  have  begun  '  Ovid.'  I  hate  it.  .  .  .  This 
is  a  beastly  school  —  milk  and  water,  no  milk  ;  bread 
and  butter,  no  butter." 

He  used  to  tell,  years  after,  how  he  asked  at  dinner, 
soon  after  his  arrival,  for  "  more  meat,  well  done,  no  fat, 
and  plenty  of  gravy."  It  is  ])r()bal)le  that  the  teacher 
was  led  to  conclude  that  tlie  restrictions  at  home  had 

;i78 


laster-General 
y,  August  26, 
:lraper,  was  a 
iment,  a  good 
lisbury.  His 
solicitor,  was 
interested  in 

d  merry,  was 

I  not  lielji  the 

lark  made  by 

if  we  go  on, 

she  does  not 

the  school  of 
lisbury.  JIu 
home  show. 
it.  .  .  .  This 
milk  ;   bread 

d  at  dinner, 

done,  no  fat, 

the  teacher 

t  home  had 


i 


,; 


HENRY  FAWCETT. 


)  I 

I 


!     i] 


1 


|] 


w 


» 


i  i 


Mil 


it 


11^9 


HENRY  FAWCETT. 


379 


not  been  very  severe.  At  this  school  Henry  began  the 
study  of  Greek  and  French,  but  showed  little  aptitude 
for  the  languages. 

At  fourteen  he  entered  Queenwood  College,  kept  by 
Mr.  Edmonson.  Here  the  lad  became  much  interested 
in  science.  A  composition  which  he  wrote  on  "  steam  " 
so  pleased  the  father,  that  he  promised  to  give  Ilenry 
a  sovereign.  It  was  the  first  thing  which  convinced  JNlr. 
■Fawcett  that  there  was  "  something  in  the  boy." 

The  composition  abounded  in  statistics  as  to  the  cost 
of  making  railways,  the  number  of  passengers,  and  the 
great  advantage  to  the  farmer  producer  and  the  London 
consumer  of  a  cheap  transport  of  cheese  ! 

"  Fawcett,  as  his  schoolfellows  remember,"  says  Leslie 
Stephen,  in  his  fair  and  excellent  life  of  the  statesman, 
"was  at  this  time  tall  for  his  age,  loosely  made,  and 
rather  ungainly.  He  preferred  study  to  boyish  sports, 
and,  in  spite  of  prohibitions,  would  desert  the  play- 
ground to  steal  into  a  copse  with  his  books.  He  was 
best  at  mathematics,  caring  little  for  Latin  and  French. 
He  learnt  long  passages  by  heart,  and  would  wander  in 
the  fields  repeating  them  aloud. 

"  In  an  old  chalk-pit,  which  was  a  favorite  greenroom, 
he  would  gesticulate  as  he  recited,  till  passing  laborers 
had  doubts  as  to  his  sanitv.  Even  at  this  time,  when  the 
boys  talked  of  their  future  lives,  he  always  declared  that 
he  meant  to  be  a  member  of  Parliament,  —  an  avowal 
they  received  b}'  '  roars  of  laughter.'  " 

After  eighteen  months  at  Queenwood,  young  Fawcett 
was  sent  to  King's  College  School,  living  in  the  house  of  a 
]\rr.  Fearon,  a  chief  office-keeper  in  the  Stamps  and  Taxes 
Department  in  Somerset  House.  To  the  conversation 
of  this  intelligent  Liberal  and  strong  free-trader,  Faw- 


'.  i 


(t 


Hi 


Nl  ill 


i 


m 


f  HI 


i 


It  \i  ■  ■ 


I 

feu' 


1    I 


I'  i 


i  1 


h 


Iff 


ri 


380 


HENRY  FAWCKTT. 


cc'tt  always  attributod  the  greatest  influence.  He  played 
ci'ibbage  untiringly  with  Mrs.  Fearon,  that  he  might 
listen  to  licr  husband's  talk.  He  was  at  an  age  when 
we  take  inii)ressions  easily,  and  the  comi)anionship  was 
most  fortunate. 

Tlie  Dean  of  Salisbury,  Dr.  Hamilton,  was  now  con- 
sulted as  to  the  fn.ture  of  this  lad  who  "meant  to  go 
to  Parliament."  Upon  seeing  Henry's  mathematical 
papers,  the  Dean  said  at  once  that  he  ought  to  go  to 
Cambridge  University. 

As  the  father  was  not  a  rich  man,  Henry  decided  upon 
that  college  l*eterhouse,  which  gave  the  largest  fellow- 
ships. When  he  reached  college,  the  boys,  says  Stephen, 
vaguely  speculated  "  as  to  whether  he  was  an  under- 
graduate, or  a  young  farmer,  or  possibly  somebody  con- 
nected with  horses  at  Xewmarket,  come  over  to  see  the 
sights.  He  had  a  certain  rustic  air,  in  strong  contrast 
to  that  of  the  young  l?endennises  who  might  stroll  along 
the  bank  to  make  a  book  upon  the  next  boat-race.  He 
rather  resembled  some  of  the  athletic  figures  who  may 
be  seen  at  the  side  of  a  north-country  wrestling  ring." 

Though  fond  of  sports,  "  He  never,"  says  his  class- 
mate, Stephen,  "condescended  to  gambling.  He  was 
a  good  whist-player,  but  he  gave  up  billiards,  and  when 
some  of  his  college  acquaintance  fell  into  a  foolish  prac- 
tice of  playing  for  more  than  they  could  afford,  he  did 
what  he  could  to  discourage  them,  and  spoke  of  their 
folly  with  hearty  contempt. 

"  He  had,  in  truth,  too  much  sense  and  self-command  — 
to  say  nothing  of  higher  motives — to  fall  into  errors  of 
this  kind.  .  .  .  The  moral  standard  of  Cambridge  was, 
in  certain  respects,  far  from  elevated ;  but  Fawcett, 
though  no  ascetic  or  strait-laced  Puritan,  was^  in  all 
senses  perfectly  blameless  in  his  life." 


e  played 
mi  gilt 
o'e  wiiou 
iliip  was 


10 w  cou- 
nt to  go 

'iiiatioal 
;o  go  to 

led  upon 

t  fellow- 

*>teplien, 

1   iinder- 

ody  con- 

see  the 

contrast 

oil  along 

xce.     He 

kiio  may 


ring. 


jj 


is  class- 
He  was 
lid  when 
ish  prac- 
I,  he  did 
of  their 

mand  — 
errors  of 
Ige  was, 
.^^awcett, 
•   in   all 


IlKMiV   T'WW'CKTT. 


381 


Fond  of  mathematics  himself,  Faweett  soon  became 
tlic  centre  of  a  little  circle  of  mathematicians  and  rcjad- 
iiig  men.  Especiidly  was  the  political  economy  of 
-John  Stuart  Mill  read  and  discussed.  Sincere,  never 
ashamed  to  show  his  enthusiasm  and  warm-heartedness, 
lu!  made  many  friendships  which  lasteil  tiirough  life. 
Indeed,  he  seemed  to  have  a  passion  for  making  frieiid- 
sliii)s,  like  our  own  Emerson,  who  said,  in  •'  Friendship," 
'•  A  new  person  is  to  me  always  a  great  event,  and 
hinders  me  from  sleep.  .  .  When  a  man  becomes  dear 
to  me,  I  have  touched  the  goal  of  fortune."  One  of 
Fawcett's  qualilieations  for  making  friendshii)S  was  his 
utter  incapacity  for  being  awed  by  differences  of  posi- 
tion. He  was  as  sensitive  as  any  one  to  the  chums  of 
intellectual  excellence,  but  his  freedom  from  affectation, 
or  false  pretensions,  saved  him  from  any  awkward  shy- 
ness. He  was  ecpiallj'  at  his  ease  with  an  agricultural 
laborer,  or  a  prime  minister,  or  a  st'iiior  wrangler. 

After  a  time  he  became  prominent  in  the  debates  at 
the  "  Union,"  speaking  on  National  Education,  The 
Crimean  War,  University  lleform,  and  other  topics. 
Finding  that  there  were  many  competitors  for  Fellow- 
sliips  at  Peterhouse,  he  entered  another  college  at  Cam- 
bridge, Trinity  Hall,  the  college  of  Lord  Chesterfield. 
Lord  Lytton,  and  others.  Here  he  was  very  ha))py. 
He  had  won  a  scholarship  at  the  college  exaininati(-)n 
in  1854,  and  determined  to  try  for  the  senior  wrangler- 
ship,  —  a  most  exciting  contest. 

"In  the  Tripos,"  says  Stephen,  "for,  as  I  imagine,  the 
iirst  and  last  time  of  his  life,  Fawcett's  nerve  failed 
him.  He  could  not  sleep,  though  he  got  out  of  bed  and 
ran  round  the  college  (piadraugle  to  exhaust  himself. 
He  failed  to  gain  the  success  upon  which  he  had  counted 


.    i\ 


II 


«n 


i»l 


m 


I 


' 


|l     n 


I    <• 


■I  !l 


ii 


1  .ti 


382 


UENliV  FA]VCKTr. 


in  the  concluding  papers."  He  stood  seventh  on  the 
list. 

At  Christmas,  ISHfi,  he  was  elected  to  a  fellowsliip, 
which  brought  liiui  two  hundred  and  Hfty  pounds  a  year. 
Still  determined  to  be  a  member  of  J*arliament  some 
day,  he  began  the  study  of  law  at  Lincoln's  Tun,  London. 
Desiring,  as  ever,  to  excel  in  public  speaking,  he  joined 
a  debating  society,  which  held  its  meetings  in  an  old- 
fashioned  room  in  Westminster  Tavern,  near  Westmin- 
ster Bridge.  It  is  said  that  Sir  Edward  Lytton  l)ulwer 
once  came  here,  mistaking  it  for  the  House  of  Commons, 
and  only  perceived  his  mistnke  when  he  heard  no  dull 
speeches,  and  saw  no  one  asleep. 

Young  Fawcett's  eyts  now  began  to  pain  him  from 
over-use,  and  he  was  obliged  to  give  up  law  for  a  time. 
He  found  employment  ly  taking  a  pujjil,  Charles  Cooke, 
nephew  of  the  Master  of  Trinity  Hall,  who  went  with 
him  to  Paris  to  study  French,  and  mathematics  at  the 
same  time  under  Fawcett. 

A  letter  written  about  this  time  to  an  intimate  friend 
of  tlie  family,  Mrs.  Hodding,  shows  the  strong  purpose 
of  the  young  man  of  twenty-three  :  — 

"  I  regard  you  with  such  true  affection  that  I  have 
long  wished  to  impart  my  mind  on  many  subjects.  .  .  . 
I  started  life  as  a  boy  with  the  ambition  some  day  to 
enter  the  House  of  Commons.  Every  effort,  every  en- 
deavor, which  I  have  ever  put  forth,  has  had  this  object 
in  view.  I  have  continually  ^.ried  and  shrdl,  1  trust, 
still  try  not  only  honorably  to  gratify  my  desire,  but  to 
fit  myself  for  such  an  important  trust. 

"And  now  the  realization  of  these  hopes  has  become 
something  even  more  than  the  gratifi(^ation  of  ambition. 
I  feel  that  I  ought  to  make  any  sacrilice,  to  endure  any 


JIKyJiV  FA  nc KIT. 


383 


on  tli(3 

lowsliij), 
•s  ii  year. 

it  some 
London, 
e  joined 

an  old- 
Vstmin- 

linhver 
jninions, 
no  dull 

ini  from 
•  a  time, 
s  Cooke, 
iMit  with 
s  at  the 

be  friend 
purpose 

I  have 
.^ls.  ... 
3  day  to 
very  en- 
s  object 
I  trust, 
,  but  to 

become 

nbition. 
ure  any 


lunount  of  labor,  to  obtain  tliis  position,  because  every 
day  I  beconu!  more  deeply  im})ressed  with  tin;  ixjwcri'ul 
conviction  that  this  is  the  i)osition  in  which  I  could  be 
of  the  greatest  use  to  my  fellow-men,  and  that  I  could 
in  the  House  of  Commons  exert  an  influence  in  renu)v- 
ing  the  social  evils  of  our  country,  and  especially  the 
])aramount  one  —  the  mental  degradation  of  millions. 

''  1  have  tried  myself  severely,  but  in  vain,  to  discover 
whether  this  desire  has  not  some  worldly  source.  I 
could  therefore  never  be  happy  unless  I  was  to  do  every- 
thing to  secure  and  tit  myself  for  this  position.  For  I 
should  be  racked  with  remorse  through  life  if  any  self- 
ishness checked  such  efforts.  For  I  must  regard  it  as 
a  high  })rivilege  from  Ciod  if  1  have  such  aspirations, 
and  if  He  has  endowed  me  with  powers  which  will 
enable  me  to  assist  in  such  a  work  of  philanthropy. 
This  is  the  career  ■which  perhaps  the  too  bright  hopes 
of  youth  have  inducted  me  to  ho})e  for." 

To  remove  "the  mental  degradation  of  millions!" 
This  was  indeed  what  Fawcett  ever  after  lived  and 
worked  for.  How  seldom  do  we  regard,  as  he  did, 
aspiration  "as  a  high  privilege  from  God,'"  and  yet  this 
is  often  the  making  of  a  num  or  woman.  Aspiration, 
as  a  rule,  means  that  one  has  power  within  him  to 
achieve  results. 

Alas  I  how  soon  was  this  life-plan  to  be  thwarted  — 
this  hope  crushed;  thwarted  it  would  have  been  in  the 
case  perhaps  of  nine  persons  out  of  ten,  but  not  thwarted 
in  young  Henry  Fawcett. 

On  Se})tember  17, 18oS,  Fawcett  went  out  shooting  with 
his  father  on  Harnham  Hill.  It  is  a  lovely  place,  where 
he  had  often  come  to  view  the  landscape,  enriched  by 
beautiful  Salisbury  Cathedral.    The  partridges  flew  across 


(I 


» 


'    vi 


t 

I            \ 

1 

t    ■            f  r 

111    ' 

I  "III 


I' 'I; 


M  ■ 

1 

■j  ill 

^^l!  ■  '  ir  . 

!*!:!  ■  •  I'M  1 

km  i 

1    !||  j 

■  { 

< 

HK 

y 

i  i 

ft 

u 

,  1 

384 


HENRY  FAWCETT. 


a  fonco  wlioro  tlie  fjitlior  liad  not  the  right  of  sliooting, 
so  he  went  forward  about  tliirty  yards,  in  front  of  liis 
son,  to  prevent  tliis  again.  They  flew  now  towards 
young  Fawcett.  The  father,  with  incipient  cataract  of 
one  eye,  and  forgetting  for  the  moment  where  his  son 
stood,  fired  at  the  birds.  A  })heasant  was  killed,  a  few 
shots  entered  young  Fawcett's  chest,  but  two  shots  went, 
liiglier,  one  passing  through  each  glass  of  nis  spectacles, 
directly  into  the  eyes,  renuiining  pennanently  ind)edded 
behind  them.  In  one  instant  the  brilliant  young  student 
was  made  blind  for  life. 

His  first  thought  was,  he  afterwards  told  his  sister, 
that  he  should  never  again  see  the  view  upon  which  he 
had  looked  that  perfect  autumn  afternoon.  He  was  put 
into  a  cart  and  carried  to  the  Longford  farmhouse,  about 
two  miles  and  a  half  away,  and  doctors  were  summoned 
from  Salisbury.  When  he  reached  his  home,  his  first 
words  to  his  sister  were,  "  Maria,  will  you  read  the  news* 
paper  to  me  ?  " 

About  six  weeks  after  the  accident,  he  began  to  per- 
ceive light,  but  in  three  days  total  darkness  came,  and 
remained  till  his  death. 

Young  Fawcett  was  calm,  even  cheerful,  but  his  father 
was  broken-hearted.  He  had  looked  forward  to  grcji' 
success  for  this  son  ;  he  aiid  Henry  were  in  a  remarkabK 
degree  companions  and  confidants,  and  now  both  lives 
seemed  almost  valueless.  He  told  a  friend,  "I  could 
bear  it  if  my  son  wovdd  only  comjdain." 

Young  Fawcett  said  years  later,  that  he  had  made  u}) 
his  mind  "  in  ten  minutes  "  after  the  accident  to  carry 
out  his  cherished  plans  as  far  as  possible.  But  it  was 
evident  that  blindness  must  prove  an  almost  insurmount- 
a,ble  barrier  to  success.     He  thought  of  attempting  to  go 


II i:\ny  fawcett. 


385 


sliootili;^', 
lit  of  lii.s 
'   towanls 

atiiract  of 
e  his  sou 

led,  a  f(!\v 

hots  went 
pcetacrh'S, 
imbedded 

ig  student 

his  sister, 
which  he 
e  was  put 

)use,  about 

summoned 
his  first 

'.  the  news- 

an  to  per- 
came,  and 

his  fatiicr 

il  to  grv{\' 

emarkabh' 

botli  lives 

"I  could 

1  made  up 
t  to  carry 
3ut  it  was 
isurmount- 
iting  to  go 


on  with  the  law,  but  soon  gave  it  up.  lie  tried  to  write 
with  his  own  hand,  but  soon  had  to  discontinue  it. 
"r)Ut,"says  Stephen,  "he  had  resolved  to  stick  to  his 
old  ambition.  lUind,  poor,  unknown,  he  would  force 
his  way  into  the  House  of  Commons." 

At  first  he  had  occasional  fits  of  depression,  which  ho 
tried  to  keep  from  the  knowledge  of  his  mother  and 
sister  whom  he  idolized  ;  but  he  soon  came  to  make  cheer- 
fulness the  habit  and  comfort  of  his  life,  and  the  joy  of 
those  about  him.  He  resolved  to  be  as  happy  as  he  could, 
and  ex})ressed,  in  later  years,  "some  impatience  with 
people  who  avowed  or  affected  weariness  of  life."  There 
was  only  one  thing  which  he  dreaded,  loss  of  energy. 
He  kept  his  wonderful  activity,  both  of  brain  and  body, 
to  the  last. 

Cheerful,  determined  though  he  might  be,  the  hard 
fact  was  ever  present,  —  he  was  blind.  He  left  Lincoln's 
Inn,  and  went  back  to  Cambridge,  to  give  himself  to 
study,  —  through  the  eyes  of  others.  He  took  rooms  in 
Trinity  Hall,  engaging  as  his  guide  and  amanuensis  a 
boy,  Edward  Brown,  the  son  of  a  college  servant  at  Cor- 
pus Christi  College.  Nine  years  later  Brown  entered 
Trinity  College  to  study  for  the  church.  He  went  out  to 
Katal,  and  died  before  he  had  been  a  year  in  his  work. 

At  Trinity  Hall,  Fawcett,  as  ever,  gathered  about  him 
a  delightful  circle.  His  chief  studies  were  now  in  the 
line  of  Political  Economy,  though  he  found  time  for 
Shelley  and  AVordsworth,  jSlilton  and  Burke.  He  heard 
all  of  George  Eliot's  novels  read,  and  was  very  fond  of 
"Henry  Esmond"  and  "Vanity  Fair."  He  listened 
eagerly  to  the  reading  of  Parliamentary  debates,  and 
every  newspaper  within  reach. 

He   was   an   enthusiastic   Darwinian.      He  prepared 


'  lil 


i 


■?    ■ 


386 


HENRY  FAWCETT. 


I'll 


ill 


a 


i    :!!« 


IHI: 


essays  for  tlie  British  Association  and  the  Social  Science 
Association.  Ilis  first  public  appearance  was  in  Se])teni- 
ber,  1859, .  year  after  ho  became  blind,  before  the  IJritisli 
Association  at  Aberdeen,  where  he  gave  a  paper  on  the 
"  Social  and  Economical  Influence  of  the  New  Gold." 

"lie  astonished,"  says  Mr.  Stephen,  "an  audience,  to 
most  of  whom  even  his  name  had  hitherto  been  unknown, 
by  the  clearness  with  which  he  oxpounded  on  economic 
theory  and  marshalled  the  corres})onding  statistics  as 
few  men  could  have  done  even  with  the  advantage  of 
eyesight.  The  discovery  of  Fawcett  was  the  most  re- 
markable event  of  the  meeting." 

Soon  after  he  presented  a  paper  before  the  Social 
Science  Association  at  Bradford,  on  the  "  Protection  of 
Labor  from  Immigiation,"  and  another  upon  the  theory 
and  tendency  of  strikes.  In  the  following  year  he  served 
on  a  committee  appointed  to  investigate  the  question  of 
strikes.  He  was  now  but  twenty-seven  years  old.  Evi- 
dently he  was  to  take  a  part  in  the  thought  and  work 
of  England,  although  blind. 

Among  Fawcett's  friends  at  Cambridge  was  ]\Ir.  Alex- 
ander jMacmillan,  a  rising  publisher.  He  made  a  sug- 
gestion to  Fawcett,  which  proved  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance, that  he  should  write  a  popular  manual  of  })olitical 
economy.  Fawcett  began  work  on  it  in  the  autumn  of 
18G1,  and  it  was  publislied  in  tlie  beginning  of  18G.'3. 
The  book  proved  profitable  to  both  autlior  and  publislier, 
and  at  once  greatly  widcmed  the  reputation  of  Fawcett. 

The  blind  young  author  was  a  most  ardent  disciple  of 
John  Stuart  :\rill.  He  wrote  Mill  in  1859:  "For  the 
last  tl)ree  years  your  books  have  been  the  chief  educa- 
tion of  my  mind.  I  consequently  entertain  towards  you 
such  a  sense  of  gratitude  as  I  can  only  hope  at  all  ade- 


nENIiV  FAWCKTT. 


387 


1  Science 
.  Soptein- 
e  liritisli 
r  on  the 
;old." 
:Iionco,  to 
inknown, 
economic 
tistics  as 
mtage  of 
most  re- 
he  Social 
ioctioii  of 
le  theory 
he  served 
Licstion  of 
oUl.     Evi- 
and  work 

:\Ir.  Alex- 
ide  a  sug- 
^st  impor- 
f  political 
Lutnmn  of 

:  of  isg;i 

publisher, 
Fawcett. 
lisciple  of 
"For  the 
ief  educa- 
wards  you 
it  all  ade- 


quately to  repay  by  doing  what  lies  in  my  power  to 
propagate  the  invaluable  truths  contained  in  every  1)^,^0 
of  your  writings." 

A  few  years  later  Fawcett  said  in  distributing  some 
prizes  at  ]\[ancliester,  "As  I  was  reading  ^Mill's  '  Liberty,' 
])orhaps  the  greatest  work  of  our  greatest  living  writer, 
as  1  read  his  noble,  I  might  almost  say  his  holy,  ideas, 
thought  I  to  myself,  If  every  one  in  my  country  couhl 
and  would  read  this  work,  how  infinitely  happier  would 
the  nation  be  !  How  much  less  desirous  should  we  be  to 
wrangle  about  petty  religious  differences !  How  mucli 
less  of  the  energy  of  the  nation  would  be  wasted  in  con- 
temptible quarrels  about  creeda  and  formularies  ;  and  how 
nuich  more  powerful  should  we  be  as  a  nation  to  achieve 
works  of  good,  wlien,  as  this  work  would  teach  us  to  be, 
we  were  tirndy  bound  together  by  the  bonds  of  a  wise 
toleration  ! " 

In  18Go,  the  year  in  which  Fawcett's  Manual  was 
publislied,  the  Professorship  of  Political  Economy  be- 
came vacant  at  the  University.  Tliere  were  four  candi- 
dates .  Fawcett  of  Trinity  Hall,  Mayor  and  Courtney  of 
St.  John's,  and  Macleod  of  Trinity.  Fawcett's  book  had 
already  been  of  great  service  to  him.  He  produced 
strong  testimonials  from  Sir  Stafford  Nortlicote,  Thorold 
Rogers,  professor  at  Oxford,  Herman  Merivale,  formerly 
})rofessor  at  Oxford,  and  other  well-known  professors 
and  writers.  But  Fawcett  was  an  opponent  of  Conserva- 
tism and  blind.  Some  said  he  could  not  preserve  order 
in  his  classes  ;  and  inost,  of  course,  regarded  his  loss  of 
sight  as  an  unfortunate  objection.  The  election  was 
warmly  contested,  but  Fawcett  won  the  prize. 

He  wrote  his  mother:  "Tlie  victory  yesterday  was  a 
wonderful  triumph.     I  don't  think  an  election   has  pro- 


HI 


.iiti 


888 


HENRY  FA]VCETr. 


(luced  so  mucli  excitement  at  Cambridge  for  years.  At, 
last  excitement  was  greatly  increased  by  its  being  made 
quite  a  church  and  political  question.  All  the  masters 
opposed  me,  with  two  exceptions,  but  I  was  strongly 
supported  by  a  great  majority  of  the  most  distinguished 
resident  fellows.  My  victory  was  a  great  sur})ris(i  to 
the  University.  I  thought,  on  the  whole,  that  I  should 
win,  but  I  expected  a  much  smaller  majority." 

This  professorship,  requiring  a  residence  at  Cambridge 
of  eighteen  weeks  annual  ly,  gave  him  a  salary  of  three 
hundred  pounds,  while  the  income  from  the  fellowsliip 
was  nearly  the  same  amount.  Fawcett  continued  to 
deliver  his  yearly  course  of  lectures  at  Cambridge  as 
long  as  he  lived. 

At  thirty  years  of  age  the  blind  Fawcett  had  become 
a  professor  at  one  of  the  great  universities  of  the  world, 
an  author,  and  was  ready  to  enter  politics.  But  it  was 
not  an  easy  matter  to  enter.  Thousands  who  were  rich, 
and  had  sight,  and  were  more  prominent  even  than  he, 
were  eager  for  every  position.  Nothing  daunted,  he 
determined  not  only  to  try,  but  to  succeed.  ]\[ill  urged 
him  to  show  his  power  in  public.  Fawcett  wrote  two 
political  pamphlets  :  one  on  Mr.  Hare's  scheme  for  pro- 
portional representation,  and  another,  a  plan  for  a  new 
Eeform  Bill ;  but  they  were  probably  but  little  read. 

He  made  inquiries  at  boroughs  sup})Osed  to  be  in  warn 
of  a  candidate.  He  talked  with  j\lr.  Bright  about  a 
Scotch  borough.  The  great  statesman  kindly  but  decid- 
edly advised  him  to  wait  till  he  was  better  known.  He 
called  on  Lord  Stanley  to  talk  about  the  Reform  Bill. 
Fawcett  told  a  friend  afterwards  the  lord  "  thought  me, 
I  fancy,  rather  young." 

The  death  of  the  admiral.  Sir  Charles  Napier,  left  a 


m  ■  I 


ti 
i 


iar.s.     At, 

ing  luiuk' 

inastors 

strontrlv 

inguishcd 

.r})riso   tc 

I  sliould 


!ainl)ri(]ge 
of  three 
ellowshi}) 
tinned  to 
nidge    us 

d  become 
ilie  world, 
put  it  Avas 
vvere  rich, 
than  he, 
uiited,  he 
dill  urged 
wrote  two 
e  for  pro- 
for  a  new 
e  read, 
be  in  wani 
it  about  a 
but  decid- 
[own.  He 
iforni  Mill, 
ought  nu^^ 

pier,  left  a 


tIEXRY  FAWCETT. 


389 


vacancy  in  the  representation  of  Soutliwark.  A  coni- 
niittee  had  been  appointed  to  find  some  candidate  who, 
instead  of  spending  money  to  procure  his  election,  might 
be  chosen  on  merit.  Fawcett  immediately  called  upon 
tlie  committee. 

''  He  stated,"  says  Stei^hen,  "  that  he  had  read  the 
report  of  the  previous  proceedings,  and  gave  a  satisfactory 
account  of  his  principles.  He  brought  as  his  credentials 
a  letter  from  Lord  Brougham,  who  had  seen  Fawcett  at 
the  Social  Science  Association,  and  had,  no  doubt,  felt 
a  genuine  sympathy  for  a  youthful  audacity,  in  which, 
if  in  little  else,  there  was  some  likeness  between  the 
two." 

Doubtless  Fawcett  realized  the  "  youthful  audacity  "  of 
his  conduct,  but  he  realized  also  that  a  man  who  stays 
in  his  room  and  wishes  for  results,  usually  obtains  very 
little.     The  man  with  fearlessness  and  energy  wins. 

The  Soutliwark  committee  were  pleased  with  the  blind 
young  politician,  and  consented  to  hold  meetings  in  his 
behalf.  At  the  first  meeting  but  few  were  present  to 
hear  the  unknown  candidate  ;  but  soon,  as  he  spoke  every 
night,  'learers  came  from  all  jiarts  of  London,  and  the 
street  outside  the  place  of  meeting  was  often  crowded. 

He  made  new  friends  constantly.  He  declared  that 
he  would  not  spend  one  shilling  to  influence  votes,  and 
the  people  believed  in  the  purity  of  his  principles.  l>ut 
his  blindness  was  the  insurmountable  obstacle. 

"How  can  he  catch  the  eye  of  tlie  s[)eaker  ?  "  said 
one. 

"How  can  he  understand  about  laying  out  new 
streets  ?  "  said  another. 

Fawcett  explained  how  he  could  inform  himself  by 
putting  pins  in  a  map.     How  little  the  people  then  real- 


I 


I) 


ill 


M    i 


' 


m 


S90 


lIENliY  FAWCETT. 


ized  that  he  was  destined  to  do  more  important  work 
for  England  than  the  laying  out  of  new  streets  ! 

Finally,  Fawcett  was  obliged  to  give  up  the  contest  in 
favor  of  a  well-known  candidate,  Sir  Austin  Henry 
Layard. 

About  this  time  the  father  of  Fawcett,  "  after  many 
years  of  fruitless  and  disheartening  toil  and  anxiety, 
brought  to  success  a  large  mining  undertaking  in  Corn- 
wall ;  in  consideration  of  which  he  was  entertained  at  a 
banquet  by  the  shareholders,  and  presented  by  them 
with  a  costly  service  of  plate." 

Young  Fawcett  was  told  by  his  friends  that  he  could 
never  get  into  I'arliament,  and  that,  as  he  had  already 
shown  marked  ability  in  some  mining  transactions,  he 
"  better  go  on  the  Stock  Exchange  and  make  a  fortune." 

He  replied,  "  Xo  ;  I  am  convinced  that  the  duties  of 
a  member  of  the  House  of  Commons  are  so  multifarious, 
the  questions  brought  before  him  so  complicated  and 
difficult,  that,  if  he  fully  discharges  his  duty,  he  requires 
almost  a  lifetime  of  study.  If  I  take  up  this  profession, 
I  will  not  trifle  with  the  interests  of  my  country;  \. 
will  not  trifle  with  the  intei'csts  of  my  constituents  by 
going  into  the  House  of  Commons  inadequately  pre- 
pared because  I  gave  up  to  the  acquisition  of  wealth  tlie 
time  which  I  ought  to  have  spent  in  the  acquisition  ol 
political  knowledge." 

There  was  now  a  vacancy  in  the  representation  of 
Cambridge.  Fawcett  became  a  candidate.  The  Con- 
servatives o])posed  liim  as  a  liadical,  ami  they  were 
shocked  that  he  was  willing  to  admit  Dissenters  to  fel- 
lowship !  The  contest  cost  six  hundred  pounds,  and 
Fawcett  was    defeated. 


A  vacancy  occurred  soon   after  at  Brighton. 


Again 


ant  work 

iontest  in 
11    Henry 

:er  many 
anxit'ly. 
in  Corn- 
ined  at  a 
by  tlieni 

lie  could 

I  already 

3tions,  he 

fortune." 

duties  of 

tifarious, 

;ated  and 

3  requires 

rofession, 

(untry ;    L 

buents  by 

itely  pre- 

'ealth  tlir 

lisition  of 

itation  of 
riie  Con- 
liey  were 
rs  to  fel- 
mds,  and 


Again 


HENRY  FAW't'ETT. 


3in 


Fawcett  became  a  candidate.  The  contest,  ''in  which 
rotten  eggs  and  l^)righton  pebbles  played  their  part," 
was  bitter  in  the  extreme.  Fawcett  w;is  opposed  be- 
cause he  was  poor,  and  would  not,  as  well  as  could  not, 
spend  money  on  the  election  ;  he  had  lavonMl  ('o-(j[)era- 
tioii,  and  was  therefore  said  to  be  '-plotting  tlic  riiiu 
of  the  tradesmen,"  and  worst  of  all,  and  above  all  other 
objections,  he  was  blind.  For  the  third  time  he  was 
defeated. 

To  any  other  man  but  Henry  Fawcett,  the  case  must 
have  seemed  utterly  hopeless.  Not  so  to  him,  who  had 
made  up  his  mind  when  a  boy  that  he  would  sometime 
enter  the  House  of  Commons.  He  tried  a  fourth  time 
for  Brighton,  and  was  elected.  At  thirty-two  Fawcett 
had  become  a  member  of  Parliament. 

What  must  have  been  his  feelings  as  he  sat  in  his 
seat  for  the  first  time  !  He  thus  writes  to  his  father : 
"I  have  just  returned  from  my  first  experience  of  the 
House  of  Commons.  I  went  there  early  in  the  morning, 
and  soon  found  that  I  should  have  no  difficulty  in  find- 
ing my  way  about.  I  walked  in  with  Tom  Hughes, 
about  four  minutes  to  two,  and  a  most  convenient  seat, 
close  to  the  door,  was  at  once,  as  it  were,  conceded 
to  me  ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  will  always  be 
considered  my  seat. 

"  Every  one  was  most  kind,  and  T  was  quite  over- 
whelmed with  congratulations.  I  am  glad  that  my  first 
visit  is  over,  as  I  shall  now  feel  perfect  conficknice  that 
I  shall  be  able  to  get  on  without  any  })ai'ticular  diffi- 
culty. The  seat  I  have  is  as  convenient  a  one  as  any  in 
the  House,  and  a  capital  place  to  s[)eak  from.  I  walked 
away  from  the  Plouse  of  Commons  with  ^Mill.  ...  I 
hope,  now  that  I  am   so  comrortably  settled,  some   of 


II 


» t 


t 


hi' 
m 


i"'-i'    ■  s 


I 


mi  \ 


WJ 


liii 


•    '4 

hi 

:  .t 


I  , 


(I 


i^     1: 


392 


lIENIiY  FAWCETT. 


you  will  come  up  to  London.  When  am  I  to  expect 
Maria  ? 

"  Give  my  kindest  love  to  mother  and  her^  and,  in 
great  haste  to  save  post,  believe  me,  dear  father,  ever 
yours  affectionately,  Henky  Fawcett." 

Fawcett  showed  his  good  sense  by  remaining  com- 
l)aratively  quiet  in  the  House  of  Commons  for  some 
months.  His  first  set  speech  was  on  March  13,  18G6, 
on  the  Reform  Bill  for  the  extension  of  the  franchise. 

The  Conservatives  contended  that  the  common  people 
did  not  desire  the  right  to  vote.  They  were  soon  to  be 
undeceived  by  the  great  reform  meetings  and  Hyde 
Park  riots. 

Fawcett  spoke  earnestly  in  behalf  of  the  working- 
classes.  He  urged  that  the  great  questions  of  the  future 
were  those  affecting  labor  and  capital,  and  those  most 
deeply  concerned  had  a  right  to  help  make  the  laws. 
He  showed  how  workingmen  had  conducted  themselves 
nobly  during  the  American  Civil  War,  and  could  be 
trusted  with  the  franchise  in  England. 

Fawcett's  second  speecli.  made  the  following  month, 
was  upon  the  oj)ening  of  feh  vships  to  Dissenters.  At 
Oxford  University,  strange  as  it  may  seem  in  this 
nineteenth  century  of  freedom  of  speech  and  belief, 
a  Dissenter  could  not  take  a  degree.  At  Cambridge  a 
Dissenter  could  hold  a  scholarship,  but  not  the  higher 
reward  of  a  fellowship,  and  consequently  a  place  in  the 
governing  bodies  of  the  colleges.  INIany  fellowships 
in  both  universities  could  be  held  only  on  condition  of 
taking  orders  in  the  Church  of  England. 

Fawcett  argued  that  every  religious  test  which  ex- 
cluded any  sect  from  the  universities  should  be  abol- 
ished.    He  felt  that  the  fellowships  should  be  given  to 


)  expect 

and,  in 
ler,  eyei- 
ng coin- 
er some 

o,  18GC, 
chise. 
1  peoi)le 
3n  to  be 
d  Hyde 

vorking- 
e  future 
ise  most 
he  laws. 
;mselves 
ould   be 

month, 
ers.  At 
in  this 
.  belief, 
jridge  a 
!  hisjjlicr 
■G  in  the 
owships 
lition  of 

lich  ex- 
be  abol- 
jiven  to 


IIEXUY  FAirCETT. 


39B 


the  most  distinguished  men.  He  showed  that  Trinity 
had  not  had  a  Senior  wrangler  since  1S4G.  i\Ir.  Stirling, 
Senior  wrangler  in  18G0.  had  been  excluded  from  a  fel- 
lowship because  he  was  a  Scotch  I'resbyterian.  The 
Senior  wrangler  of  1801,  again  from  Trinity,  ^Mr.  Aldis, 
was  excluded  because  he  was  an  English  Dissenter. 
Mr.  Aldis's  two  brothers  were  excluded  for  the  same 
reason. 

Fawcett  labored  in  support  of  the  University  Tests 
Abolition  Bill,  till,  after  being  twice  rejected  by  the 
House  of  Lords,  in  18G9  and  1870,  it  was  passed  in 
1871  by  both  Commons  and  Lords.  Clerical  fellow- 
ships were  abolished  in  1877. 

On  the  Bill  for  Elementary  Education,  introduced  by 
]\Ir.  Forster  in  1870,  Fawcett  took  a  leading  and  most 
earnest  part.  He  desired  especially  to  see  the  children 
ot  agricultural  laborers  as  well  provided  for  intellect- 
ually as  those  in  manufacturing  districts.  Both  in 
Parliament  and  in  the  press  he  was  constantly  asking 
for  better  education,  more  comfortable  homes,  higher 
v/ages,  and  happier  lives  for  the  laborers. 

"Many  years  of  my  life,"  said  Fawcett,  "were  passed 
on  a  large  farm.  Between  many  of  the  laborers  and 
myself  there  has  been  such  intimate  friendship  that  I 
have  been  able  to  obtain  a  close  insight  into  their  dailv 
life,  and  thus  to  become  acquainted  with  their  most 
pressing  wants. 

"  During  the  winter  of  18G7-GS,  when  bread  was 
at  Is.  5d.  the  eight-pound  loaf,  the  agricultural  wages 
paid  in  South  Wiltshire  were  10.s\  a  week.  .  .  .  Last 
Christmas  I  ascertained  from  a  laborer,  whom  I  knew 
sufficiently  well  to  pi;  ^  implicit  reliance  on  his  state- 
ments, that  he,  his  wite    and  four  young  children  were 


r-  M 


Ill 


I  I 


! 


'    V' 


m 


u^ 


I, :! 


||lN| 


ill 


394 


iiEynr  fawcett. 


obliged  for  many  weeks  to  live  upon  dry  bread  and 
tea;  the  only  addition  to  this  miserable  diet  was  half  a 
pound  of  butter,  bought  once  a  week  as  a  Sunday  luxury. 
This  man  was  sober,  industrious,  and  an  excellent  work- 
man, and  had  been  employed  upon  the  same  farm  for 
many  years. 

"But  independently  of  such  cases  as  the  one  just 
described,  it  is  a  fact  that  the  vast  majority  of  agri- 
cultural laborers  never  can,  or  at  least  never  do,  make 
any  provision  for  old  age.  Tliere  are  large  districts  of 
the  best  cultivated  land  in  the  country,  where  it  w(mlil 
be  almost  impossible  to  Hnd  a  laborer  who  luul  saved  hve 
pounds.  As  a  class,  they  look  forward  to  be  nuiintained 
upon  parish  relief  when  they  are  unable  to  work.  It 
therefore  appears  that  our  agricultural  economy  is  such 
that  those  who  till  our  soil  frequently  spend  their  lives 
in  poverty,  and  end  their  days  in  pauperism.  .  .  . 

"  Leisure  is  a  priceless  blessing  to  those  who  possess 
some  mental  cultivation,  but  it  hangs  heavily  on  the 
hands  of  those  who  are  as  uneducated  as  our  agricul- 
tural laborers.  1  remember  one  winter's  evening  calling 
on  one  of  these  laborers,  about  seven  o'clock ;  I  found 
him  just  going  to  bed. 

"  On  being  asked  why  he  did  not  sit  up  an  hour  or  two 
longer,  he  said  in  a  tone  of  peculiar  melancholy  which  L 
can  never  forget,  '  My  time  is  no  use  to  me ;  I  can't  read. 
I  have  nothing  to  do,  and  so  it  is  no  use  burning  hie  and 
candle  for  nothing.'  When  I  reflected  that  this  was  a 
man  endowed  by  nature  with  no  ordinary  intellectual 
power,  I  thought  what  a  satire  his  words  were  upon  our 
vaunted  civilization.  .   .  . 

''  Education  must  cause  an  advance  in  wages,  since 
if  laborers  were  less  ignorant,  lliev  would  be  more  enter- 


HEX II  y  FA  WCETT. 


son 


\ad  aiul 
s  lialf  a 
/  luxuiy. 
tit  work- 
Uirin   for 

)iio  just 
of  at^n'i- 
o.  make 
ti'icts  of 
it  would 
aved  five 
lintaiiied 
k'ork.  It 
y  is  such 
leir  lives 

3  possess 
y  on  thi3 
I'  agricul- 
ig  calling 
I  found 

ur  or  two 

^  which  I 
xn't  read. 
;  file  and 
lis  was  a 
tellectual 
ui)oii  our 

"OS,  since 
)re  enter- 


l)rising,  and  would  be  willing  to  migrate  to  looalities 
where  labor  was  more  highly  remunerated.  Education 
would  also  cause  more  comfortable  cottages  to  be  built; 
lor,  if  a  man  had  some  mental  cultivation,  he  would  not 
submit  to  dwell  in  a  hovel,  and  he  would  be  outraged  if 
all  his  children  were  obliged  to  sleep  in  one  room.  .  .  . 

"A  man's  moral  qualities  are,  as  a  general  rule,  de- 
veloped by  the  proper  training  of  the  mind.  It  is  of 
peculiar  importance  in  agriculture  that  the  workman 
should  possess  a  high  moral  character.  The  profits  of 
the  farmer  often  entirely  depend  upon  the  honesty  and 
the  fidelity  with  which  his  laborers  do  their  work." 

Mr.  Fawcett  did  not  believe  in  free  schools,  as  we  so 
heartily  do  in  America,  because  he  thought  parental  re- 
sponsibility would  be  thereby  diminished,  and  the  prudent 
be  obliged  to  pay  for  the  spendthrift ;  but  he  labored  con- 
stantly for  compulsory  education,  and  after  years  of  effort 
saw  it  accomplished  by  ]\Ir.  Mundella's  bill  in  ISSO. 

He  found  by  personal  investigation  that  children  were 
taken  away  from  school  at  a  very  early  age,  and  made  to 
earn  to  help  support  the  family.  In  one  village  there 
was  not  a  single  youth  who  could  read  sufficiently  well 
to  enjoy  a  newspaper.  "  A  child  when  he  is  seven  or 
eight  years  old  can  earn  a  shilling  a  week  by  holloaing 
at  crows,  and  when  a  year  older  gets  two  shillings  u 
week  as  plough-boy.  These  children  are  almost  invari 
ably  taken  away  from  school  at  this  early  age,  and  tho}/ 
consequently  soon  forget  the  little  they  have  learned." 

In  the  preservation  of  open  spaces  or  parks  for  the 
poor,  Fawcett  worked  untiringly.  He  knew  that  the 
people  who  lived  in  stiHing  rooms  needed  the  sunlight 
and  air  now  and  then,  to  make  life  cmlurable.  He  knew 
that  land  was  becoming  so  valuable  in  L(jndon,  and  trade 


il  A 


ji 


fhl  II  I 


I  liliU  I 


lit  if 


m 


i 

If  1 
1 

1 

1 

'  1 
1 

4 

i 

S06 


lIENnr  FAWCETT. 


so  grasping,  that  the  forests  and  parks  and  gardens  would 
soon  become  a  tiling  of  the  past,  unless  somebody  who 
loved  humanity  took  the  part  of  the  workers,  who  were 
too  busy  earning  their  daily  bread  to  lift  a  hand  in  their 
own  defence. 

"  The  General  Enclosure  Act  of  1845,"  said  Fawcett, 
"distinctly  contemplated  that  a  certain  amount  should 
be  reserved  from  land  proposed  to  be  enclosed,  as  allot- 
ment-gardens for  the  laboring  poor,  and  as  a  recreation 
ground  for  the  public.  As  an  illustration  of  the  reckless 
way  in  which  enclosures  have  been  permitted,  it  may  be 
mentioned  that  in  the  session  of  1809,  a  bill  was  intro- 
duced which  proposed  to  enclose  G,1)00  acres  in  diiTereiit 
parts  of  the  country,  and  out  of  this  the  Enclosure  Com- 
missioners reserved  three  acres  as  recreation  grounds  for 
the  public,  and  six  acres  as  allotment-gardens  for  the 
laboritig  poor.  .  ,  . 

"Perhaps  it  will  be  said,  the  rich  are  generally  the 
protectors  of  the  poor;  and  when  every  one  is  so 
anxious  that  people  should  have  healthy  recreation,  and 
that  the  poor  should  have  gardens,  there  will  be  always 
some  one  who  will  take  care  that  land  is  reserved  for 
each  of  these  purposes.  But  six  acres  for  gardens  and 
three  for  recreation  grounds  out  of  0,900  acres  is  a  sad 
(commentary  upon  such  a  pleasing  theory." 

After  giving  examples  of  land  formerly  used  as  com- 
mons or  parks,  now  appropriated  by  landed  gentry,  he 
says,  '"  Withypool  Common,  situated  in  North  Devon, 
comprises  1,904  acres,  and  the  amount  to  be  reserved  out 
of  this  large  area,  as  a  recreation  ground  for  the  public, 
was  one  acre.  .  .  .  Let  us  hear  what  the  parish  clerk 
of  Withypool  says  on  the  subject.  Some  member  of  the 
committee  asked  him  whether  the  resident  landlords  did 


nENRV  FAn'CETT. 


307 


irf  would 
)(ly  who 
lio  were 
ill  their 

^'iiwcett, 

should 

IS  allot- 

croatioii 

reckless 

may  be 

IS  iutro- 

lifferent 

ire  Com- 

luuls  for 

for  the 

•ally  the 
le  is  so 
ion,  and 
always 
rved  for 
^ens  and 
is  a  sad 

as  com- 
ntry,  he 

Devon, 
'ved  out 

public, 
h  clerk 
r  of  the 
>rds  did 


not  protest  when  only  one  acre  was  reserved  for  a  recrea- 
tion ground.  His  reply  was:  'The  landlords  sooni  to 
say  that  we  have  got  recreation  ground  enough ;  bt'sides, 
the  laborers  could  go  to  work,  and  recreate  themselves 
with  that.' "  This  renuirk  certainly  did  not  imjjly  very 
great  concern  for  the  laborers.  It  is  fortunate  for  Eng- 
land that  Fawcett  and  a  few  other  true  men  made  it 
their  concern,  for  such  men  save  a  country  from  revolu- 
tions. 

'•  It  has  been  calculated,"  said  Fawcett,  "  that  f ro)u 
the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century  up  to  the 
year  184."),  about  seven  million  acres  of  land  had  been 
enclosed.  Since  1845  this  quantity  has  been  increased 
by  484,89.3  acres.  .  .  .  One  rural  po})ulation  has  been 
deprived  of  that  which  once  gave  a  most  iuiportant 
addition  to  their  income.  The  common  often  enabled 
them  to  keep  some  poultry,  a  pig,  and  a  cow.  ]\Iany 
villages  may  now  be  traversed,  and  not  a  single  laborer 
can  be  found  possessing  a  head  of  poultry  ;  few.  even 
keep  a  pig,  and  not  one  in  ten  thousand  has  a  cow. 
What  is  the  result  of  this  ?  The  laborer  does  nut  live 
as  well  as  he  did  a  hundred  years  since;  he  and  his 
family  seldom  taste  meat,  and  his  children  suffer  cruelly 
from  the  difficulty  he  has  in  obtaining  milk  for  them. 

"Not  long  since  I  happened  to  be  conversing  with  an 
agricultural  laborer  in  a  southern  county.  After  having 
renuirked  that  a  cow  which  was  passing  us  was  his,  he 
said,  in  a  tone  of  peculiar  melancholy,  '  I  shall  soon  have 
to  get  rid  of  her,  and  when  she  goes,  I  sha'n't  stop  here 
any  longer,  but  shall  emigrate.  INIy  wages  are  so  small 
that  I  don't  know  how  I  could  l)ring  up  my  children,  if 
it  wasn't  for  the  help  she  gave  me.' 

■'  Upon  asking  him  why  he  should  be  obliged  to  sell 


!  [| 


I 


n  I 


1 1 


m  ^  I 


irillit 


m 


;  I 


■    V 

11 ' 

1 

% 

1 

i 

1 

!l' 


398 


llENUY  FAWCETT. 


his  cow,  lie  simply  said,  'They  are  .t^'oin,'.,'  to  oiicloso  our 
coiiunoii ; '  and  he  si;^niiii(!aiitly  askt'il  iiow  it  was  that 
a  gentleiiiaii  who  had  something  like  ten  thousand  acres 
could  be  so  anxious  to  get  hold  of  the  })Oor  man's  com- 
mon ?  Ilemenibering  that  the  Home  Secretary  had 
defended  enclosures  in  the  House  of  Commons  because 
the  Home  OfHce  never  received  comj)laints  from  the 
locality,  I  asked  this  laborer  why  he  and  his  friends  did 
not  resist  that  which  they  so  much  dreaded  ? 

^'  He  replied  that  he  had  never  lieard  of  the  Homo 
Oflice  ;  and  he  evidently  thought  that  1  was  suggesting 
to  him  just  as  hopeless  a  task  as  if  I  had  advised  him  to 
induce  the  river,  by  the  side  of  which  we  wc^re  standing, 
to  ilow  in  an  op])osite  direction.  It  should  surely  be 
remembered  that,  a.uiiough  the  landed  interest  is 
abuiuhmtly  represented  in  Tarliament,  those  who  till  the 
land  have  no  one  who  is  directly  interested  either  in 
adequately  expressing  their  wants  or  in  effectively  pro- 
testing against  any  injustice  inflicted  upon  them.'' 

Fawcett  was  outspoken  against  the  use  of  so  much 
land  for  game.  "  The  passion  for  the  jjreservation  of 
game,"  he  said,  "  which  has  gradually  assumed  such 
dangerous  proportions,  now  })robably  exerts  a  more 
powerful  influence  than  any  other  circumstance  to 
l)romote  enclosures.  l*eople  who  spend  a  great  part  of 
their  lives  in  slaughtering  half-tanu-d  })heasants  are 
naturally  desirous  to  keep  the  public  as  far  off  as  possi- 
ble from  their  preserves.  This  constant  pursuit  of  what 
is  falsely  called  '  sport '  often  generates  so  much  selfish- 
ness that  a  man  is  willing  that  the  enjoyment  of  the 
public  should  be  sacrificed  in  order  that  he  may  kill  a 
few  more  hares  and  pheasants." 

Fawcett  used  to  say  that  "  the  worst  and  most  mis- 


)S0  our 
IS  tli;it 
I  acrt's 

s   COlll- 

ly    liad 

)0(!ause 

111    tlio 

ids  did 

Homo 
•gestiiig 

liiiii  to 
andiug, 
rely  bu 
rest  is 
till  the 
tlier  ill 
ely  i)ro- 

o  mucii 
itioii  of 
id  such 
a  more 
nice  to 
part  of 
iits  are 
s  possi- 
of  what 
seltish- 
of  the 
Y  kill  a 

)st  mis- 


IlKNUY   F.WVCKTT. 


chievous  of  all  ccouomies  was  that  which  aggrandized  ;i 
few  and  made  a  paltry  addition  to  the  sum  total  ol 
wealth  by  shutting  out  the  poor  from  fresh  air  and 
lovely  scenery." 

Fawcett  always  took  delight  in  long  walks,  and  in 
having  his  companions  tell  him  about  the  beauties  of 
the  landscape  as  they  walked. 

"It  is  a  reflection,"  says  Stephen,  'Mvliieh  has  some- 
thing of  the  pathetic  for  the  future  generations  of 
Londoners  who  will  enjoy  the  beauties  of  the  Surrey 
Comnions  and  the  forest  scenery  of  Epping,  that  their 
opportunities  of  oiijoyinent  are  due  in  so  great  a  degree 
to  one  who  could  only  know  them  through  the  eyes  of 
his  fellows." 

jMeantinie  a  new  joy  had  come  into  Fawcott's  earnest, 
busy  life.  He  had  married,  April  2o,  18G7,  ]\Iilliceiit 
Garrett,  twenty  years  old,  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Xewson 
Garrett  of  Aldeburgh,  Suffolk;  a  most  attractive  young 
lady,  whose  devotion,  whose  brilliant  intellect,  and  whose 
heli)fulness  proved  the  greatest  blessing  of  his  life. 
There  are  comparatively  few  such  intellectual  unions 
as  the  Brownings  and  the  Fawcetts.  Mrs.  Fawcett's 
volumes  on  "  J'olitical  Economy,"  published  in  1870  and 
1874,  like  her  husband's,  met  with  a  large  sale,  llcr 
essays  in  the  leading  magazines  are  bound  up  with  liis 
in  books,  ller  ability  in  i>ublic  speaking,  her  grace,  her 
w^omanly  manner,  her  interest  in  all  matters  of  education 
and  progress,  have  made  her  honored  and  beloved. 

Their  first  home  after  marriage  was  at  42  IJessborough 
Gardens,  and  in  1874  till  his  death  at  the  age  of  fifty -one, 
The  Lawni,  Lambeth,  which  had  a  garden  about  three- 
quarters  of  an  acre  in  extent,  where  Fawcett  could  walk 
and  think.     "  It  included,"  says  Stephen,  "  a  couple  of 


I 


('Hit 


.; 


I    II 


|t*L 


:i    I 


400 


II i:\in'    FA  WCETT. 


small  gret'iiliouses,  in  wliioli  ho  oould  raise  flowers,  and 
it  was  his  special  i)i'ide  to  send  })resents  of  asparagus  and 
sea-kale  to  his  parents,  to  show  the  superiority  of  the 
London  elimate  for  the  growth  of  vegetables.  The  house 
itself  was  small,  but  a  very  pretty,  old-fashioned  resi- 
dence, suitably  adorned  by  the  taste  of  his  wife." 

Mr.  Moncure  D.  Conway  thus  describes  Fawcett  ii; 
these  early  years  of  his  Parliamentary  career:  ^' The 
visitor  to  the  House  of  Commons,  waiting  at  the  door 
of  the  Strangers'  Gallery,  and  watching  the  members  of 
Parliament  as  they  file  in  by  the  main  entrance,  will,  no 
doubt,  have  his  eye  particularly  arrested  by  a  tall,  fair- 
haired  young  man,  evidently  blind,  led  up  to  the  door  by 
a  youthful,  petite  lady  with  sparkling  eyes  and  blooming 
cheeks.     She  will  reluctantly  leave  him  at  the  door.  .  .  . 

"  As  she  turns  away,  many  a  friendly  face  will  smile, 
and  many  a  pleasant  word  attend  her  as  she  trips  lightly 
up  the  stairway  leading  to  the  Ladies'  Cafe,  near  the 
roof  of  the  House.  .  .  .  The  two  are  as  well-known  fig- 
ures as  any  who  approach  the  sacred  precincts  of  the 
legislature.  The  policemen  bow  low  as  they  pass ;  the 
crowd  in  the  lobby  make  a  path.  .  .  .  The  strangers 
ask,  '  Who  is  that  ? '  and  a  dozen  bystanders  respond. 
'  Professor  Fawcett.' 

"  No  one  can  look  upon  him  but  he  will  see  on  lii; 
face  the  characters  of  courage,  frankness,  and  intelligencf. 
He  is  six  feet  two  inches  in  height,  very  blond,  his 
light  hair  and  complexion,  and  his  smooth,  beardless 
face  giving  him  something  of  the  air  of  a  boy.  His 
features  are  at  once  strongly  marked  and  regular.  He 
narrowly  escaped  being  handsome,  and  his  expression  is 
very  winning.  His  countenance  is  habitually  serene, 
and  no  cloud  or  frown  ever  passes  over  it. 


HENRY  FAWCETT. 


401 


vers,  aiul 
agus  and 
y  of  the 
he  house 
ned  resi- 

Lwcett  ii; 

r:   "The 

the  door 

mbers  of 

,  will,  no 

tall,  fair- 

e  door  by 

blooming 

loor.  .  .  . 

ill  smile, 

ps  lightly 

near  the 

nown  fig- 

ts  of  the 

pass ;  the 

strangers 

1  respond, 

Be  on  lli^■ 
:elligen('('. 
jlond,  his 
beardless 
i)oy.  Ilis 
ular.  He 
)ression  is 
y    serciu', 


"  His  smile  is  gentle  and  winning.  It  is  probable  that 
no  blind  man  has  ever  before  been  able  to  enter  upon  so 
important  a  political  career  as  Professor  Fawcett,  who, 
yet  under  fifty  years  of  age,  is  the  most  influential  of  the 
independent  Liberals  in  Parliament.  From  the  moment 
that  he  took  his  seat  in  that  body,  he  has  been  able  — 
and  this  is  unusual  —  to  command  the  close  attention  of 
the  House.  He  has  a  clear,  fine  voice,  speaks  with  the 
utmost  fluency,  has  none  of  the  University  intonation, 
and  none  of  the  hesitation  or  uneasy  attitudes  of  the 
average  Parliamentary  speaker.  He  scorns  ill  subter- 
fuges, speaks  honestly  his  mind,  and  comes  to  the  point. 
At  times  he  is  eloquent,  and  he  is  always  interesting. 
He  is  known  to  be  a  man  of  convictions." 

Always  taking  the  side  of  the  poor  or  the  oppressed, 
it  was  not  strange  that  Fawcett  became  the  advocate  for 
India,  so  mucli  so  that  he  was  for  years  called  the 
"  Member  for  India."  He  felt  that  in  the  government 
cf  nearly  two  hundred  millions,  most  of  them  poor, 
abuses  would  and  did  creep  in.  He  pleaded  for  a  deeper 
interest  in  the  welfare  of  that  far-off  country,  and  for 
fairness  and  justice.  "The  people  of  India,"  he  said, 
"  have  not  votes ;  they  cannot  bring  so  much  pressure 
to  bear  upon  Parliament  as  can  be  brought  by  one  of  our 
great  railway  companies." 

He  was  constantly  seeking  to  know  if  the  condition  of 
the  masses  under  English  rule  was  better  than  under 
native  rule.  He  insisted  that  the  governing  forces  in 
India  should  give  a  full  account  of  their  doings.  He 
opposed  heavy  taxes  in  India,  and  showed  how  the  poor 
were  constantly  living  on  the  verge  of  starvation.  He 
made  himself  familiar  with  the  details  of  the  finances 
of  India.     He  pointed  out,  and  spoke  iu  no  uncertain 


I     !   , 


iit 


IVifi     Si 


It 


li.''i 


,! 

i 

1 

:    1 

.  1 

i 

■ 

\ 

; 

* 

ll 

1 

1 

some   2)olitici;iiis  iu  that  distant   country. 

The  people  of  Indir:,  soon  learned  who  was  their  friend. 
Addresses  were  voted  to  him  by  a  great  number  of 
native  associations.  When  the  Liberals  were  defeated 
at  lU-ighton,  and  Fawcett  lost  his  seat,  a  fund  of  £400 
was  immediately  raised  in  India  to  assist  in  the  expenses 
of  the  contest  at  Hackney,  from  which  place  Fawcett 
was  elected  in  1874. 

In  1875  he  moved  that  the  whole  expense  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales'  visit  to  India  should  be  paid  by  Eng- 
land. Both  Gladstone  and  Disraeli  opposed  this,  and  it 
was  voted  that  India  should  pay  £30,000.  When  tlie 
Duke  of  Edinburgh  visited  India  and  distributed  £10,000 
worth  of  gifts,  the  money  was  taken  from  the  Indian 
revenues.     This  Fawcett  called  "melancholy  meanness." 

Fawcett  was  heartily  opposed  to  primogeniture  and 
entail.  Of  the  first  he  said,  "  It  fosters  what  may  be 
regarded  as  peculiarly  a  begetting  sin  of  the  English  ; 
for  it  encourages  the  contemptible  pride  which  is  'ex- 
hibited in  the  desire  to  found  a  family.  We  all  eagerly 
seize  at  any  justification  for  wrong-doing  ;  and  the  man, 
who,  in  order  to  create  an  eldest  son,  impoverishes  liis 
younger  children,  can  find  some  consolation  when  his 
conscience  upbraids  him,  from  the  fact  ihat  he  is  leaving 
his  property  exactly  in  tlie  same  way  as  the  State 
declares  it  ought  to  be  distributed  in  accordance  with 
principles  of  natural  justice.  .  .  . 

"At  the  present  time,  the  law  permits  land  to  be  set- 
tled, or,  as  it  is  often  termed,  entailed  upon  any  nundx-r 
of  lives  in  being,  and  twenty-one  years  after.  Almost 
all  the  large  estates  of   tlie   landed   aristocracy  are  sn 


HENRY  FAn'CETT. 


403 


overnors, 
hness   of 


ir  friend. 

imber   of 

defeated 

of  £400 

expenses 

Fawcett 

e  of   the 

by  Eng- 

lis,  and  it 

VHien  the 

I  £10,000 
le  Indian 
eanness." 
iture  and 
t  may  be 

English  ; 
cli  is  'jx- 

II  eagerly 
the  man, 
i-ishes  his 
when  his 
is  leaving 
the  State 
ance  with 

to  be  set- 

y  numbiM' 

Almost 

,cy  are  so 


entailed  that  those  who  are  in  actual  possession  of  them 
are  only  life-owners  ;  the  freehold  is  not  their  property, 
and  consequently  it  cannot  be  sold.  .  .  .  The  power  of 
entailing  or  settling  land  should  be  restricted.  .  .  .  Lord- 
lieutenants,  deputy-lieutenants,  high  sheriffs,  and  county 
magistrates  ought  not  in  future  to  be  chosen  almost  en- 
tirely from  the  land-owning  class,  but  should  be  selected 
from  the  most  worthy  and  best  qualified  men  in  the 
county,  whatever  may  be  their  social  position.  The 
political  and  social  importance  now  attached  to  the  pos- 
session of  land  would  be  considerably  diminished  if  the 
present  constitution  of  the  House  of  Lords  were  funda- 
mentally changed." 

Fawcett  was  an  earnest  advocate  of  co-operation  and 
profit-sharing.  He  now  stood  so  prominently  before  the 
country  that  he  was  to  receive  an  additional  honor.  He 
was  appointed  Postmaster-General,  April  27,  1880. 

He  writes  home  :  "  jNIy  dear  Father  and  IMotiier,  — 
You  will,  I  know,  all  be  delighted  to  hear  that  last  night 
I  received  a  most  kind  letter  from  Gladstone  offering  me 
the  Fostumster-Generalship.  ...  I  did  not;  telegraph  to 
yor.  the  appointment  at  first  because  Gladstone  did  not 
wish  it  to  be  known  until  it  was  lornially  confirmed  by 
the  Queen ;  but  he  told  me  in  m}^  interview  with  him 
this  morning  that  he  was  quite  sure  that  the  Queen  took 
a  kindly  interest  iu  my  appointment." 

He  had  now  been  fifteen  years  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, filling  his  professorship  at  Cambridge,  writing 
valuable  books,  and  all  this  time  never  too  busy  to  make 
friends,  to  be  a  cheerful  comrade,  especially  with  young 
men,  to  keep  warm  and  bright  his  home  affections,  and 
his  tenderness  and  sympathy  for  the  poor. 

When  he  went  to  Salisbury  he  made  it  a  point  to  visit 


t  1 


'.  I 


r^i:j 


!    t  ' 


I5f)i     ■  1 


I 


.1 

|m 

1 

1  ' 

! 

il 

i| 

M 

i 

1  1 

404 


HENRY  FAWCETT. 


his  father's  okl  laborers.  "  How  successful  he  was  in 
throwing  himself  into  their  feelings  may  be  inferred 
from  an  anecdote  of  his  father's  old  farm-servant  Rum- 
bold,  Rumbold  was  one  day  giving  to  Fawcett's  mother 
the  last  news  from  his  sties;  'and,'  he  added,  'mind 
you  tell  jMaster  Harry  when  you  write  to  him,  for  if 
there's  one  thing  he  cares  about  'tis  pigs.'  It  was  one 
thing,  though  hardly  the  one  thing." 

He  was  always  in  the  habit  of  writing  .v,  weekly  letter 
home.  He  happened  one  day  to  ask  his  sister  ^laria 
what  gave  his  parents  most  pleasure  ?  She  replied, 
"  Your  letters."  Ever  after  that,  no  matter  how  over- 
whelmed with  work,  he  wrote  tivo  letters  a  week  to  these 
dear  ones. 

His  own  home  was  pre-eminently  a  happy  one.  His 
only  child,  Philippa,  born  in  1868,  was  his  pride  and 
companion.  They  walked,  and  rode  on  horseback,  and 
skated  together.  On  the  open  spaces  he  would  skate 
alone,  his  little  daughter  whistling  to  guide  him  as  to 
her  whereabouts. 

Fawcett  declared  in  1880,  says  Stephen,  "  that  no  one 
had  enjoyed  more  than  he  a  skate  of  fifty  or  sixty  miles 
in  the  previous  frr^t.  In  later  years  lie  used  to  insist 
that  every  one  in  the  house,  except  an  old  cook,  should 
partake  of  his  amusement.  His  wife  and  daughter^  liis 
secretary,  and  two  maids,  would  all  turn  out  for  an  expe- 
dition to  the  frozen  Fens.  .  .  .  His  own  servants  loved 
him,  and  the  servants  of  his  friends  had  always  a  pleas- 
ant word  with  him.  He  Avas  scrupulously  considerate  in 
all  matters  affecting  the  convenience  of  those  dependent 
upon  him." 

An  especial  pet  was  a  little  dog  called  Oddo,  after  a 
character  in  "Feats  on   the  Fiord."     He  came  to   the 


HENRY  FA]VCETT. 


405 


was  in 
inferred 
it  Runi- 
niother 
'  mind 
1,  for  if 
was  one 

y  letter 

r  ^Nlaria 

replied, 

pw  over- 

to  these 

le.     His 

:'ide  and 
ack,  and 
Id  skate 
.im  as  to 

it  no  one 
:ty  miles 
to  insist 
i,  should 
;hter^  liis 
an  ex})e- 
its  loved 
;  a  ideas- 
derate  in 
3pendent 


house  from  the  refuge  for  lost  dogs,  and  had  good  rea- 
son to  be  grateful  for  the  care  bestowed  upon  him.  A 
cat  named  "  IJen  "  was  also  a  pet. 

Fawcett  was  very  fond  of  fishing.  A  friend  once 
remarked  to  him  upon  the  cruelty  to  animals  involved 
in  fishing.  "  Without  discussing  that  point,  Fawcett 
apologized  for  his  own  delight  by  a  very  important  con- 
sideration. He  could  not,  he  said,  relieve  himself  by 
some  of  the  distractions  which  help  others  to  unbend. 
....  He  could  not,  for  example,  glance  through  the 
pages  of  a  magazine  or  a  novel,  or  join  in  the  games  of 
the  young,  or  could  only  do  so  with  difficulty,  and  in 
constant  dependence  upon  others.  Blindness  increased 
concentration  by  shutting  out  distractions.  We  close 
our  eyes  to  think,  and  his  were  always  closed.  .  .  .  Fish- 
ing served  admirably  to  give  enough  exercise  to  muscle 
and  mind  to  keep  his  faculties  from  walking  the  regular 
treadmill  of  thought  from  which  it  is  often  so  hard  to 
escape." 

Fawcett  was  forty-six  when  he  became  Postmaster- 
General.  He  took  hold  of  the  work  heartily  and  ear- 
nestly. In  his  first  year  he  took  up  the  important 
matter  of  Post-office  Savings  Banks,  which  had  been 
introduced  twenty  years  previously,  and  greatly  ex- 
tended their  benefits.^ 

The  Postage-stamp  saving  scheme  was  adopted  in 
1880.  Little  slips  of  paper  were  prepared  with  twelve 
squares  each,  the  size  of  a  stamp.  To  these,  as  persons 
were  able  to  save,  penny  stamps  (two  cents  each)  could 
be  affixed.     When  the  slip  was  full,  and  they  had  thus 


1,  'dhov  a 


to   ll 


If 


1  A  full  (U'scrlption  of  Post-office  Saviiiji;s  Banks  may  bo  found  in  my  book, 
•'Social  Studit'S  in  Kniiiand,"  I'li:-  tliosc  who  are  iutertvtud  iu  a  plan  wlucli 
it  is  to  be  hoped  America  will  adopt.  — S.  K.  B. 


40G 


HENIiY  FAWCETT. 


saved  twenty-tive  cents,  any  postmaster  would  give  tliein 
a  bank-book.  In  four  years  the  total  number  of  deposi- 
tors had  increased  by  a  million. 

The  facilities  for  life  insurance  and  annuities  were 
increased.  A  person  could  insure  his  or  her  life,  or  buy 
an  annuity  at  any  one  of  seven  thousand  offices,  and  pay 
in  any  sums,  and  at  any  time. 

So  eagor  was  Mr.  Fawcett  that  the  poor  should  b(; 
helped  to  save,  that  he  wrote  "  Aids  to  Thrift,"  of  which 
a  million  and  a  quarter  copies  were  distributed  gratui- 
tously. He  introduced  the  new  system  of  postal-orders, 
devised  under  his  predecessor,  with  very  low  commis- 
sions charged.  He  was  instrumental  in  the  passage  of 
the  Parcel  Post  Act,  enabling  the  post-office  to  carry  and 
deliver  parcels  under  a  prescribed  weight  at  a  specified 
charge,  without  regard  to  distance.  The  number  of 
parcels  carried  annually  soon  reached  over  twenty 
millions. 

He  was  in  favor  of  cheap  telegrams  for  the  people, 
one  cent  per  word,  with  a  minimum  charge  of  sixpence. 
Government  had  purchased  the  telegraphs,  giving  the 
large  sum  of  £10,000,000,  for  a  property  valued  at 
£7,000,000.  His  plans  in  this  matter  were  not  carried 
out  until  shortly  after  his  death. 

Fawcett  became  emphatically  the  good  friend  of  hi? 
employes.  He  believed  in  their  ho  lesty,  was  courteous, 
kindly,  and  most  considerate.  "  He  would  sooner  expose 
himself  to  inconvenience,  and  even  deprive  himself  of 
what  appeared  to  be  official  assistance  of  an  almost 
indispensable  character,  than  subject  those  from  whom 
he  might  have  demanded  it  to  inconvenience.  Numer- 
ous instances  ho.ve  recurred  to  me,"  says  Mr.  Blackwood, 
"when  he  preferred  to  wait  for  information  rather  than 


■  t 


!?  ?f 


IIENIiY  FAWCETT. 


407 


ve  til  em 
deposi- 

cs  were 
!,  or  buy 
and  pav 

loiild  be 
)f  which 

gratui- 
1-orders, 
cominis- 
ssage  of 
iriy  and 
specified 
niber  of 

twenty 

!  people, 
sixpence. 
ving  the 
dued  at 
;  carried 

I  of  hi? 
>urteoiis, 
r  expose 
mself  of 
.  almost 
n  whom 
Xumer- 
ckwood, 
iier  tluiii 


cause  an  officer  to  forego  his  leave  of  absence,  and  even 
miss  a  train  or  his  usual  luncheon-hour." 

Fawcett  was  especially  anxious  to  increase  the  oppor- 
tunities of  work  for  women.  lie  employed  them  in  the 
various  departments,  and  found  them  accurate,  faithful, 
aud  competent.  One  of  my  pleasantest  recollections  of 
Eugland  is  an  evening  spent  in  1882  at  tlu^  hospitiiblc 
home  of  Mr.  A.  W.  W.  Dale,  a  Fellow  of  Trinity  Hall, 
Cambridge.  ^Iv.  and  j\Irs.  Fawcett  were  present  at  the 
dinner,  and  three  or  four  others.  Mr.  Fawcett  seemed 
deeply  interested  o-bout  America  and  a  true  friend  to 
her :  asking  questions  upon  all  imjiortant  subjects,  a 
delightful  talker,  full  of  cheer,  most  cordial  in  manner, 
and  a  man  of  whom  a  nation  might  well  be  proud.  His 
sightless  eyes  did  not  dim  the  brightness  of  his  manly, 
open  face.  His  wife  was  as  able  in  conversation  as  she 
was  distinguished  in  face  and  bearing. 

In  the  fall  of  this  year,  1882,  j\[r.  Fawcett  had  a  dan- 
gerous illness  —  diphtheria  followed  by  typhoid-fever. 
The  whole  country  was  anxious  about  the  result.  The 
Queen  often  telegraphed  twice  a  day.  ''  He  spoke  when 
at  his  worst,"  says  Stephen,  "of  a  custom  which  he  had 
for  many  years  observed,  of  making  presents  of  beef 
and  mutton  to  his  father's  old  laborers  or  their  widows 
at  Christ'^as.  As  soon  as  he  became  distinctly  con- 
scious, he  told  his  secretary  to  be  sure  to  make  the 
necessary  arrangements.  He  would  also  ask  whether 
the  inmates  of  his  family,  or  the  doctors  who  came  to 
see  him,  were  getting  proper  attention  at  their  meals." 

After  being  very  near  death,  he  recovered,  and  gained 
strength  rapidly.  Friends  daily  came  to  read  to  him, 
"Vanity  Fair"  being  among  the  books  most  enjoyed. 

For  two  years  he  attended  to  his  work  as  usual ;  but 


408 


lIENUy  FAWCKTT. 


m 


Ml  II 

:it:      : 


•I . 


■  i 


Ml 


Nil        :f     '=i 


■I 

frioi 


,i 


{| 


I! 


V 


I 


the  sickness  was  evidently  the  beginnin^^  of  the  end. 
lie  took  (old  the  last  of  )etobei',  1S84,  and  was  threat- 
ened with  congestion  of  t.ie  kings.  On  Thursday  morn- 
ing, November  0,  it  was  ascertained  that  the  action  of 
the  heart  wrs  weakened.  A^  four  o'clock  INIrs.  Ci arret 
Anderson,  ]\[.  D.,  the  sister  of  iSFrs.  Fawcett,  and  Sir 
Andrew  Clark  reached  Cambridge,  and  found  Fawcett 
dying.  He  was  still  able  to  speak,  and  asked  if  dinner 
had  been  provided  for  Sir  Andrew  Clark. 

Soon  his  hands  and  f^et  grew  cohL  Thinking  that 
the  weather  had  changed,  he  said  to  his  wife,  "The 
best  thing  to  warm  my  hands  would  be  my  fur  gloves : 
they  are  in  the  pocket  of  my  coat  in  the  dressing-room.'' 

These  were  his  Last  words.  He  fell  into  a  sleep  in 
a  few  minutes,  and  passed  away.  Ho  was  buried  No- 
vember 10,  in  the  churchyard  of  Trumpington,  near 
Cambridge,  a  great  crowd  of  all  classes  coming  together 
to  mourn  for  their  beloved  dead. 

Letters  came  to  the  stricken  family  from  rich  and  poor 
alike.  The  Queen  wrote  to  Mrs.  Fawcett ;  ^Ir.  Gladstone 
wrote  a  letter  to  Fawcett's  father  about  the  remarkable 
qualities  of  his  noble  son,  and  the  good  he  had  done 
for  England. 

A  company  of  carpenters,  bricklayers,  and  blacksmiths 
wrote  Mrs.  Fawcett :  "  The  loss  to  you  must  be  beyond 
measure;  but  we,  as  part  of  the  nation,  do  give  you  who 
have  been  his  helper,  our  heartfelt  sym})athy  in  your 
great  trouble,  and  we  do  hope  you  may  find  a  little 
consolation  in  knowing  that  his  work  that  he  has  done 
for  the  working-classes  has  not  been  in  vain." 

A  Provident  Society  asked  ^Nfrs.  Fawcett  to  allow  a 
penny  testimonial  to  b(^  given  by  the  working-peo])le  of 
the  whole  country,  "not  in  the  shape  of  charity,  but  for 


he   end. 

tlireiit- 
y  inoi'ii- 
^tioii  oi' 

Ci arret 
111(1  Sir 
Aiweett 

dinner 


ng  that 
J,  "The 
gloves  : 
,'-room.'' 
sleep  in 
ied  Xo- 
n,  near 
ogether 


iiid  poor 
hidstone 
larkable 
ad  done 

ksmitlis 
beyond 

roil  wlio 

in  your 
a  litth; 

las  done 

allow  a 

eojile  of 

but  for 


inaXliY  FAWCETT. 


400 


public  and  striking  services  rendered  by  one  of  the  best 
men  since  Edmund  IJiirke.  We  only  wish  lie  had  lived 
twenty  years  longer." 

Mrs.  Fawcett  was  able  to  reply  to  this  kind  intention 
that  her  husband's  forethought  and  prudence  had  left 
her  and  her  daughter  comfortably  provided  for. 

IMaiiy  deserved  honors  eame  to  Fawcett  before  his 
death.  The  University  of  Oxford  made  hiiii  Doctor  of 
Civil  Law.  The  University  of  Wiirzburg,  in  1882,  made 
him  Doctor  of  Political  Economy,  the  only  other  person 
upon  whom  that  degree  liad  been  conferred  being  j\r.  de 
Laveleyc.  The  Institute  of  France,  in  ^Nlay,  1884,  made 
him  a  corresponding  member  of  the  Section  of  Political 
Economy.  The  Iloyal  Society  made  him  a  Fellow.  The 
University  of  Glasgow,  in  188.3,  gave  him  the  degree  of 
L.L.D.,  and  elected  him  to  the  Lord  Kectorship,  the 
other  candidates  being  Lord  P)Ute  and  ]\Ir.  lluskin. 
Death  prevented  Mr.  Fawcett  from  delivering  the  cus- 
tomary address  on  taking  his  seat  at  the  head  of  the 
University.     All  this,  and  blind  ! 

vLfter  his  deat]  ,  by  national  subscription,  a  monument 
by  Mr.  Gilbert,  A.Il.A.,  was  erected  in  Westminster 
Abbey ;  from  the  same  fund,  a  scholarship  tenable  by 
the  blind  of  both  sexes,  founded  at  Cambridge ;  also 
from  the  same  fund  toward  providing  a  playground  at 
the  Roval  Normal  College  for  the  Blind  at  Norwood. 

Fawcett  had  felt  great  interest  in  this  institution, 
especially  as  it  enabled  a  large  proportion  of  the  inmates 
to  earn  their  own  living.  He  protested  against  "  walling 
np"  the  aged  blind  in  institutions;  for  training  the 
young  they  were  necessary.  lie  said,  "Home  associa- 
tions are  to  us  as  precious  as  to  you.  T  know  from  my 
own  experience  that  the  happiest  moments  that  I  spend 


i 


410 


rTENRV  FAWCETT. 


fii  i    ' 


in  my  lifo  are  wliou  I  am  in  companionship  with  soiiif 
friend  who  will  forget  that  I  have  lost  my  eyesight,  who 
will  talk  to  me  as  if  I  could  see,  who  will  describe  to  mo 
the  persons  I  meet,  r,  beautiful  sunset,  or  scenes  of  great 
beauty  through  which  we  may  be  passing." 

lie  urged  his  friends  to  help  to  "replace  the  depress- 
ing misery  of  dependence  by  the  buoyant  activity  wliich 
comes  from  self-reliance  and  from  the  consciousness  of 
the  power  to  earn  one's  own  living." 

A  statue  has  been  erected  in  the  market-place  at  Salis- 
bury, where  he  used  to  play  when  a  boy  ;  his  portrait  by 
Herkomer  has  been  presented  to  Cambridge  by  members 
of  the  University;  memorials  have  been  placed  in  Salis- 
bury Cathedral  and  in  Trumpington  church;  a  drinking- 
fountain  commemorative  of  liis  service  for  the  rights 
of  women  has  been  placed  on  the  Thames  Embankment. 
Fawcett  was  an  earnest  advocate  of  Woman  Suffrage. 
He  spoke  in  favor  of  it  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and 
in  his  books.  He  believed  that  "  women  should  have  the 
same  opportunity  as  men  to  follow  any  profession,  trade, 
or  employment  to  which  they  desire  to  devote  their 
energies."  He  deprecated  in  his  "  Essays  "  the  "  social 
customs  and  Icijral  enactments  which  combine  to  discoiir- 
age  women  of  every  class  from  earning  their  liveli- 
hood." 

Fawcett  supported  ardently  the  first  proposal  to  admit 
women  to  the  Cambridge  local  examinations,  and  the 
first  meeting  which  led  to  the  foundation  of  Newnham 
College  was  held  in  ^Irs.  Fawcett's  drawing-room.  Both 
Mr.  and  ]\Irs.  Fawcett  we-e  untiring  in  tlieir  efforts  for 
the  higlior  education  of  womtMi  in  England.  "What  a 
reward  for  his  hibors  could  he  have  lived  to  see  his 
daughter  Philippa  Garrett  Fawcett  in  June,  1890,  not 


II  I 


IIFCMIV    FA\r( 


411 


ill    SOlllt' 

lit,  who 
)(;  to  me 
of  great 

df'pross- 
y  wiiicli 
siiess  of 

at  Ralis- 
rtrait  by 
nembors 
in  Salis- 
rinkiii''- 
e  rights 
nkment. 
8uffi'ji<i(>. 
ons,  and 
have  the 
)n,  trade, 
)te  their 
3  "social 
diseour- 
v   liveli- 

to  admit 
and  tlie 
ewnhain 
1.  Both 
Ports  for 
What  a 
see  his 
890,  not 


yet  twenty-two  years  of  age,  earry  off  the  highest  lioiiors 
in  mathematics  at  Cambridge,  standing  above  the  Senior 
wrangler ! 

'•When  her  name  was  read  in  the  Sen.'ite  ITouse  of 
Cambridge,  Saturday,  June  7,  prefaced  by  tlie  woi'ds, 
'Above  the  Senior  wrangler,'  the  enthusiiism  of  tin' 
under-gra(biates  was  unbounded,"  says  the  llhislrnfKl 
London  News  of  June  20.  Thus  heartily  did  the  voun^' 
men  recognize  and  feel  proud  of  the  ability  of  one, 
though  not  of  their  sex,  who  had  excelled  them, 

"  Miss  Fawcett  has  the  self-possession  of  her  father," 
says  a  writer  in  the  Pall  Mall  Gazette.  "  Keen  as  she 
was  to  succeed.  Miss  Fawcett  made  a  rigid  habit  of  going 
to  bed  at  eleven  and  rising  about  eight.  .  .  .  When  the 
ordeal  drew  nigh,  Miss  Fawcett  simply  faced  it  with  the 
consciousness  that  she  had  done  her  best,  and  that  worry- 
ing would  only  do  harm.  She  slept  every  night  as 
soundly  as  ever  in  her  life.  She  wrote  her  papers  coolly, 
deliberately,  without  erasure. 

"  She  thought,  of  course,  that  she  had  done  badly  ;  but 
one  thing  w,iich  gave  her  this  idea  was  the  most  notable 
fact  that  she  did  not  feel  tired  at  the  end.  On  the  (hiy 
when  the  list  was  to  be  read,  Miss  Fawcett  did  indeed 
w^ake  early  with  excitement,  and  confessed  to  r(\ading 
'^[ansfield  l*ark  '  in  bed,  in  order  to  occupy  and  ctilni 
her  mind.  .  .  .  When  asked  the  question,  '  Don't  you 
wish  it  were  all  over  ? '  she  answered,  '  Xo ;  I  don't  want 
to  have  three  weeks  taken  out  of  my  life.'  .  .  .  Among 
other  interests,  jMiss  Fawcett  has  inherited  from  her 
father  and  mother  a  strong  one  in  political  and  social 
economies,  and  her  speeches  on  these  and  other  sub- 
jects in  the  college  debating  society  have  always  been 
markedly  practical  and  to  the  point." 


412 


tU'Lwiiv  FAwcirrr. 


V-u: 


:;  I 


Kliza  Putnam  ITcatoii  thus  describes  tlie  Loudon  home 
of  tlic  Fawootts':  — 

"Tlicn'  is  a  plain,  four-.tory,  ercnn-colorod  house  in  ;t 
quiet,  nnfashionable  street  elose  to  tlie  IJritish  niuscum. 
All  its  ncij^^hhors  are  of  the  lark,  smoky  brick  so  dear  to 
the  Londoiu'r.  It  is  further  distin,t,niished  from  them  by 
its  pink  ;ind  white  awnings,  tlu;  Howcrs  in  its  windows, 
and  its  air  of  liveliness  noticeable  even  by  a  passer.  .  .  . 

"'I'IkmHui  ravs  of  a  London  sun  fall  across  an  old- 
fashioned  bureau,  strewn  with  papers  and  writing  mate- 
rials, and  cunningly  <*nsconced  in  a  corner  by  the  tire- 
place,  where,  in  spite  of  the  sun's  feeble  efforts,  if  it  bo 
toward  night,  a  cheery  blaze  is  leaping.  The  floor  is 
warm  with  bright  colored  rugs,  and  soft  green  and  crim- 
son draperies  hang  in  the  doorways  and  at  the  wimlows. 
Pictures  look  down  from  the  walls,  prominent  among 
them  being  a  portrait  in  oil  of  the  late  Postnmster-Gcn- 
eral  Fawcett,  or  Professor  Henry  Fawcett,  as  the  nuii 
of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  still  affectionately  call 
him.  Opal-tinted  vases  are  tilled  with  the  crimson  and 
yellow  poppies  that  make  the  English  fields  glorious  in 
summer;  books  are  everywhere,  and  so  are  quaint  art 
objects,  yet  there  is  nothing  in  the  Avay,  nothing  that 
one  could  knock  off  or  throw  down.  .  .  . 

"Presently,  perhaps,  the  curtains  part,  and  there 
appear  two  figures,  one  below  medium  height,  small,  but 
perfectly  p^'oportioned,  slight,  erect,  well  knit,  and  active 
looking,  with  large,  ex})ressive  blue-gray  eyes,  and  a 
great  plaited  coronet  of  light-brown  hair.  The  fresh. 
healthy  complexion,  and  the  simple  gray  cloth  w;ilkiiig- 
dress  go  admirably  with  the  light  step  that  suggest  mueli 
out-door  exercise. 

"With  an  arm  .about  the  shoulders  of  this  figure  there 


=.  I 


I  i 


f 


>ii  home 

uso  ill  a 
iiuscuin. 
dear  to 
licm  liv 
iinlows, 
cr.  .  .  . 
ail  old- 
,;■  iiuit(^- 
tlio  Hi'c- 
,  it'  it  1)0 
floor  is 
11(1  criiii- 
viiulows. 
t  nnioiiL,' 
iter-Gi 'li- 
the  IHi'll 

-tely  call 
iison  and 
n'ioiis  ill 
laiiit  art 
iiig  that 

d  there 
null,  but 
id  active 
,  and  a 
10  fresh, 
walkiii'.;- 
;st  much 

ire  there 


riKynv  fawcett. 


410 


may  be  anothcM-,  somewliat  tailor,  youn.c^or,  with  girlish 
curves,  and  shy,  .girlish  ways.  You  note  darker  hair 
than  her  mother's,  drawn  looscdy  back  from  a  pretty 
forehead  and  coiled  high.  The  eyes  are  (juiet,  straight- 
forward, with  a  (luestioning  look  under  their  curved 
brows.  The  liands  are  M'(dl  formed,  not  small,  but  sup- 
ple and  una<h)rned  with  rings.  A  jersey  waist,  with  a 
buiieli  of  dewy  roses  at  the  belt,  com])letes  for  you  tlie 
picture  of  as  fresh,  fair,  and  rosy  ;i  girl  as  ever  playeil 
tennis  or  ai)i)lauded  a  game  of  cricket,  to  say  nothing  of 
wrestling  in  the  gra])ple  of  intellectual  thew  and  sinew, 
in  whi(di  sheer  mtMit.al  strength  and  staying  powers  are 
the  only  things  that  count  to  the  wranglers." 

These  two  persons  are  ^Irs.  Millicent  Garrett  Fawcett 
and  her  daughter  Philippa. 

It  was  fortunate  that  Fawcett  lived  to  see  so  mucli 
accomplished  for  woman's  higher  education,  and  for 
suffrage,  and  better  conditions  for  the  laborers.  He 
died  ill  the  very  prime  of  his  life,  at  fifty-one;  l)ut  what 
a  life  !  What  heroism,  what  nobleness  of  purpose,  what 
energy,  what  devotion  to  princii>le  !  He  used  to  say, 
"  We  must  press  on,  and  do  what  is  right."  Simple 
words,  but  worthy  to  be  the  motto  of  nations. 


Wl 


ii-i 


:m 


II-'.' 
If,ll 


i  . 'i 


■'  if'  ■  I  ■ 


:;i 


!)'i  ii 


f!i  Ii: 


if    ti 


s 


it 


Ii  I 


^h 


*  1  ) 


ill  II 


is*  i  i 


I 


!• 


Ill 


WILLIAM   EWART  GLADSTONE. 


"  r^  ENTLEMEN,  I  said  to  you  it  had  been  my  fortune 

V-T  to  know  some  great  men  ;  but  the  greatest  man  I 
have  ever  known  is  still  alive." 

Thus  spoke  John  Morley  in  a  public  address  at  Roch- 
dale, April  23,  1890. 

An  incident  recorded  of  the  eminent  statesman  of 
Rochdale,  John  Bright,  is  well  known.  To  a  member  of 
the  aristocracy,  a  lady,  who  was  opposed  to  Gladstone 
politically.  Bright  said,  "  Madam,  has  your  son  ever  seen 
Mr.  Gladstone  ?  " 

"No,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Then  take  him  at  once  to  see  the  greatest  English- 
man he  is  ever  likely  to  look  upon." 

William  Ewart  Gladstone,  born  at  Liverpool,  Decem- 
ber 29,  1809,  is  of  Scotch  descent.  His  grandfather, 
f foil  11  Gladstone,  born  at  Leith,  was  a  successful  corn- 
merchant  and  ship-owner  of  Liverpool,  engaged  in  trade 
with  Russia  and  India.  William's  father,  Sir  John 
Gladstone,  was  also  a  wealthy  grain  merchant  of  Liver- 
pool, with  great  strength  of  will  and  comprehensive 
mind.  "  Diligent  in  business,"  was  his  motto,  which  was 
as  characteristic  of  the  man,  as  "  Industry  "  was  of  the 
first  Sir  Robert  Peel.  William  E.  Gladstone  has  never 
been  ashamed  of   his   ^^onnoction,  by  birth,  with  trade. 

414 


II  ! 


[E. 


y  fortune 
st  man  I 

at  Roch- 

sman  of 
ember  of 
rladstoiie 
3vei'  seen 


English- 

,  Decem- 
iidfatlier, 
fill  corn- 
in  trade 
)ir  John 
)f  Liver- 
•ehensive 
Inch  was 
.s  of  the 
as  never 
bh  trade. 


WILLIAM    E.  GLADSTONE. 


^\: » 


¥11: 


Prfl 


M    '1  i 


if 


1   1 
'  1   : 

1 

illl 

!       i 

Mil 

1  . 

WILLIAM  EWAUT  GLADSTONE. 


41;") 


He  said  in  an  address  delivered  at  the  Liverpool  Col- 
legiate Institute,  December  21,  1872 :  "  I  know  not  why 
coramerce  in  England  should  not  have  its  old  families, 
rejoicing  to  be  connected  with  commerce  from  genera- 
tion to  generrtion.  It  has  been  so  in  other  countries  ; 
I  trust  it  will  be  so  in  this  country.  I  think  it  a  subject 
of  sorrow,  and  almost  of  scandal,  when  those  families 
who  have  either  acquired  or  recovered  station  and  wealth 
through  commerce,  turn  their  backs  upon  it,  and  t,eem 
to  be  ashamed  of  it.  It  certainly  is  not  so  with  my 
brother  or  with  me.  His  sons  are  treading  in  his  steps, 
and  one  of  my  sons,  I  rejoice  to  say,  is  treading  in  the 
steps  of  my  father  and  my  brother." 

Sir  John  Gladscone,  created  a  baronet  in  1845  by  Sir 
Kobert  Peel,  was  in  Parliament  at  the  same  time  as  his 
illustrious  son,  and  must  have  listened  with  great  delight 
to  his  son's  remarkable  eloquence.  He  died  in  1851,  at 
the  age  of  eighty-eight. 

Ann  Eobertson,  the  wife  of  Sir  John,  and  mother  of 
William,  is  said  to  have  been  descended  from  Henry  III. 
of  England,  and  Robert  Bruce,  King  of  Scotland.  She 
is  described  as  "  a  lady  of  very  great  accomplishments  ;  of 
fascinating  manners,  of  commanding  presence,  and  high 
intellect ;  one  to  grace  any  home  and  endear  any  heart." 
She  died  when  her  fourth  son,  William,  was  twenty-six 
years  old. 

Her  eldest  son.  Sir  Thomas  Gladstone,  died  March  20, 
18Si) ;  the  second,  John  Neilson,  eiitered  the  Koyal 
Navy,  became  a  member  of  Parliament,  and  died  in 
1808  ;  the  third,  Robertson,  mayor  of  Liverpool,  became 
the  head  of  the  mercantile  house  at  Liverpool,  and  died 
in  1875  ;  the  two  daughters,  Helen  Jane  and  Ann  Mc- 
Kenzie^  died  unmarried,  the  former  in  1879. 


i 


k; 


117/././. 1.1/   EWART  GLADSTONE. 


i 


iiii 


,'i 


!      ft 


!i  \\ 


I] 


Young  William  aviis  first  sent  to  an  academy  near 
Liverpool,  kept  by  the  lie  v.  INIr.  Jones  ;  and  a  little  before 
he  was  twelve,  in  September,  1821,  to  Eton.  Already  he 
liad  been  taught  by  his  father  to  discuss  the  great  ques- 
tions of  the  day,  and  to  think  for  himself. 

He  was  an  earnest,  active  lad,  fond  of  sports,  but 
more  fond  of  study,  and  soon  distinguished  himself  l)v 
his  Latin  versification.  He  helped  to  establish  the 
'•  Eton  Miscellany"  at  the  school,  and  contributed  regu- 
larly to  it.  He  rendered  a  chorus  from  the  "  Hecuba '' 
of  Euripides,  wrote  a  poem  of  two  hundred  and  fifty 
lines  on  liichard  CtKur  de  Lion,  a  paper  on  "  Eloquence," 
another  on  "  Ancient  and  Modern  Genius  compared." 
and  many  other  articles.  In  his  paper  on  Elo(|uen('e 
he  said,  in  his  eighteenth  year,  "  A  successful  dehuf,  an 
offer  from  the  minister,  a  Secretaryship  of  State,  and 
even  the  rremiership  itself,  are  the  oljjects  which  form 
the  vista  along  which  a  young  visionary  loves  to  look." 

After  leaving  Eton,  in  1827,  he  studied  for  two  3'ears 
as  a  private  pupil  of  Dr.  Turner,  afterwards  15isho})  of 
Calcutta,  and  entered  Christ  Church  College,  Cxford.  in 
1829.  Here  his  industry  and  application  were  very  great. 
"iN"o  matter  where  he  was,"  says  one  writer,  ''whetiin' 
in  college-rooms  or  country  mansion,  from  ten  a.  m.  1. 
two  r.  M.  no  one  ever  saw  AVilliam  Ewart  (jladstom  . 
During  this  interval  he  was  invariably  locked  up  wiili 
his  books.  From  the  age  of  eighteen  until  that  of 
twenty-one,  he  never  neglected  studying  during  tlicse 
particular  hours,  unless  he  happened  to  be  travelling; 
and  his  evening  ordeal  was  scarcely  less  severe.  Eiglit 
o'clock  saw  him  once  more  engaged  in  a  stiff  bout  witli 
Aristotle,  or  plunged  deep  in  the  text  of  Thucydidcs." 

"Naturally    hardy    and    muscular."    says    ]Mr.    (1.    II. 


WILLIAM  EWAirr  GLADSroyE. 


417 


ny  near 
le  before 
ready  lie 
!at  ques- 

orts,  but 
:iiself  by 
dish    tlif 
;ed  regu- 
riecuba"' 
iiid   fifty 
)qiience.'' 
m  pared,"' 
llo(iuence 
del  nit,  an 
itate,  and 
lich  form 
o  look." 
iwo  years 
)islio}»  of 
)xford.  in 
ery  great. 
'•'  wlu'tlifr 

1    A.    M.    1' 

iladstoin  . 
L  up  wiiii 
\  that  oi 
int^  these 
ravcdliiiLj; ; 
;e.  Kiglit 
bout  willi 
ydides." 
\\\-.    (1.    W. 


Emerson,  in  liis  Life  of  Gladstone,  "lie  cultivated  his 
bodily  powers  by  regular  active  exercise,  and  his  high 
moral  nature  preserved  him  from  the  temptation  to 
indulge  in  enervating  luxuiiousness.  Temperate  and 
active,  trained  to  muscular  exertion,  he  could  probably 
have  outwalked  any  of  the  undergraduates  of  his  college 
as  easily  as  he  could  have  surpassed  most  of  them  in 
mental  acquirements.  A  brisk  walk  o^  thirty  or  forty 
miles  was  a  small  matter  to  the  handsome,  well-knit, 
resolute  young  student,  who  returned  from  it  with  a 
refreshed  brain,  and  renewed  vitality,  to  his  studies." 

He  became  president  of  the  Oxford  Union,  a  debat- 
ing society,  where)  he  was  on  the  Tory  side.  He  gradu- 
ated in  18ol,  taking  the  highest  honors  of  the  University, 
a  double-first,  an  unusual  achievement. 

The  following  year,  the  young  man,  unspoiled  by 
wealth,  uniting  the  energy  of  his  father  with  the  sensi- 
tiveness and  conscientiousness  of  his  mother,  went 
abroad  to  enlarge  his  mind  through  traveL  He  spent 
nearly  six  months  in  Italy,  when  he  was  recalled  to 
England  by  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  whose  son,  the 
Earl  of  Lincoln,  was  an  intimate  friend  of  young  Glad- 
stone at  Oxford.  The  Duke  requested  him  to  contest 
Newark  for  a  seat  in  the  House  of  Commons.  Tlie 
young  man  of  twenty-two  at  once  returned,  and  took  an 
active  })art  in  the  canvass. 

"  There  were  in  his  youthful  face,"  says  George  Barnett 
Smith,  in  his  Life  of  the  statesman,  "  none  of  those 
deep  lines  which  have  rendered  his  countenance  so  strik- 
ing in  maturer  years  ;  and  one  who  remembers  him  well 
at  this  period  describes  his  bright,  thoughtful  look,  and 
attractive  bearing.  He  was  considered  a  handsome  man, 
and  possessed  a  most  intelligent  and  expressive  counte- 


nance. 


)j 


418 


]nLLIA^f  EWAIiT  GLADSTOXE. 


ml 


II;    : 


m 


■'lill 

1  ■ 

1 

:li     n  i) 

V 

w  n  u  ^ 

i"l 

j 

Speaking  of  a  picture  painted  at  this  time,  '^'''1'.  Smitli 
says,  "There  is  to  be  perceived  tlie  same  broad,  inteUecl- 
Uiu  forehead,  the  somewhat  massive  and  prominent  nose, 
the  same  anxious  e^es,  and  the  earnest  expression,  su 
characteristic  of  the  man  upwards  of  a  generation  Later.*' 

Anotlier  writer  says :  "His  eyes  are  clear  and  quick. 
?Iis  eyebrows  are  dark  and  rather  prominent.  There  is 
not  a  dandy  in  the  House  but  envies  what  Truefit  would 
call  his  '  fine  head  of  jet-black  luiir.'  .  .  .  His  complexion 
must  be  a  very  unworthy  witness  if  he  does  not  possess 
an  abundant  stock  of  health." 

Young  Gladstone  soon  convinced  the  people  of  New- 
ark that  he  was  not  only  an  orator,  but  one  concerned 
for  the  welfare  of  the  citizens.  He  i)romised  "sedulous 
and  sjiecial  attention  to  the  interests  of  the  poor. 
founded  upon  th<^  rule  that  those  who  are  the  least  able 
to  take  care  of  themselves  should  be  most  regarded  by 
others.  Particularly,  it  is  a  duty  to  endeavor  by  every 
means  that  labo:  may  receive  adequate  remuneration  ; 
which,  unhappily,  among  several  classes  of  our  fellow- 
countrymen,  is  not  now  the  case." 

The  young  man  did  not  escape  the  usual  ordeal  of 
aspirants  for  officf^.  He  was  called  the  "Duke's  nomi- 
nee;" "  recommended  by  no  claim  in  the  world  exce[>t 
the  will  of  the  Duke;"  "the  slave-driver."  because  his 
father  owned  slaves  in  Demerara ;  but  he  worked  ear- 
nestly, and  won  the  membership  for  Xewark. 

He  sjioke  rarely  during  his  first  term  in  the  House, 
and  then  in  the  most  conservative  manner.  He  defended 
his  father's  managers  of  slaves  on  the  sugar  plantations, 
and  advocated  a  "universal  and  efficient  system  of  Chris- 
tian instruction,"  before  emancipation.  "  Let  ftnessj'' 
he  said,  "  be  made  a  condition  for  emancipat/ion ;  and  let 


r 


WILLIAM  EWAli":  GLADSTOyE. 


411t 


Sniitli 

itcUfct- 
it  llOSt', 

sion,  so 

lator." 

.  (luic'k. 

'here  is 

t  WOlllil 

l)lexi()ii 
possess 

)f  Xe\v- 
iiceriu'(l 
lediilous 
e  pdor. 
ast  al)lt' 
rded  by 
jy  ever}' 
leratioii ; 
;  fellow- 

rdeal  of 
's  iioini- 
1  exee[)t 
aiise  his 
ked  ear- 

i  House, 
lefended 
utatioiis, 
of  Chris- 
fifnestt,'' 
:  and  let 


1-^ 


us  strive  to  bring  him  to  that  fitness  by  the  shortest 
possiWe  course." 

]^ut  Wilberforce  and  others  'kviw  that  human  nature 
couhl  not  always  be  trusted  to  g'.ve  ''Christian  instruc- 
tion" to  those  in  bondage,  and  immediate  emancipation 
was  decreed,  to  the  glory  of  England. 

Gladstone  spoke  in  favor  of  tie  Established  Church  in 
Irchmd.  He  was  opposed  to  Mr.  Hume's  Universities' 
Admission  Bill,  one  object  of  which  was  to  remove  the 
necessity  of  pledging  one's  self  to  believe  the  Thirty- 
nine  Articles  before  entering  the  University  of  Oxford. 

Mr.  Gladstone  said  nearly  a  half-century  later,  before 
the  ralmerston  Club,  Oxford,  in  December,  1878:  "I 
trace  in  the  education  of  Oxford  of  my  own  time  c  le 
great  defect.  Perhaps  it  was  my  own  fault ;  but  I  must 
admit  that  I  did  not  learn,  when  at  Oxford,  that  which  I 
have  learned  since,  namel},  to  set  a  due  value  on  the 
imperishable  and  the  inestimable  principles  of  human 
liberty.  ...  I  can  only  assure  you,  gentlemen,  that 
now  I  am  in  front  of  extended  popular  privileges,  I  have 
no  fear  of  those  enlargements  of  the  Constitution  that 
seem  to  be  approaching.  On  the  contrary,  I  hail  them 
with  desire." 

As  soon  as  INIr.  Gladstone  liad  been  elected  to  i'arlia- 
iiient,  he  spent  eleven  terms  in  the  study  of  law,  but 
retired  from  the  Society  of  Lincoln's  Inn  in  1837, 
'•  having  given  up  his  intention  of  being  called  to  the 
bar." 

On  December  24,  1834,  whe.i  Sir  Robert  Peel  became 
Prime  Minister,  Gladstone  was  Liade  Junior  Lord  of  the 
Treasury,  and  was  promoted  in  February  of  the  follow- 
ing year  to  the  office  of  Under-Secretary  for  the  Col- 
onies. 


u .  i 


!i  'ii  \ 


III 


II! 


II 


^  i^in 


11 


I 


420 


WILLTAM  EWAIiT  GLADSTONE. 


This  position  lie  hold  only  a  sli.ort  time,  as  the  Pool 
administration  gave  place  to  that  of   Lord  Melbourne. 

Ill  18oS  ^Fr.  Gladstone's  first  book  was  published, 
"The  State  in  its  Ivehitions  with  the  Chureh,"  in  wliidi 
lie  argues  at  length  the  advisability  of  maintaining  tlic 
Establisliecl  Church,  and  gives  his  reasons  therefor. 

The  ')00K  soon  passed  through  four  editions,  and  w.is 
warmly  })ra'"sed  and  as  warmly  condemned.  ]\Iacaul;iv 
made  a  brilliant  and  able  reply,  in  the  Kdlnhui'tjh  lu'rinr. 
to  the  positions  taken  in  the  book.  The  ])isseiit)'rs  df 
course  opposed  tin;  foundation  princi[)les  of  the  volumo. 

Tn  1840  ]\rr.  Gladstone  followed  his  defence  of  the 
union  of  Church  and  State  with  another  volume :  ''Chuivli 
Principles  considered  in  their  Kesults." 

All  these  early  years  ]\Ir.  Gladstone  was  gainiii'^  a 
name  for  himself  in  the  House  of  Commons.  He  iuad(» 
a  speech  on  Church  Kates,  filling  thirteen  columns  of 
Hansard's  Parliamentary  Debates.  He  opposed  iinnie- 
diate  abolition  in  a  spe?ch  of  thirty -three  columns.  He 
spoke  pgainst  the  removal  of  civil  disabilities  from  the 
Jews.  Happily,  in  1847,  he  had  ehai:'^'ed  his  opinions, 
and  spoke  in  behalf  of  che  Jews.  A  writer  says  of  Mi-. 
Gladstone  at  this  time:  "His  gesture  is  varied,  but  not 
violent.  "WIkm  he  rises  he  generally  puts  botli  his 
hands  behind  his  back ;  aiid  having  thus  suffered  tlieni 
to  embrace  each  oth':^r  for  a  short  time,  he  uncla- j>s 
them,  and  allows  them  to  drop  on  either  side.  They 
are  not  pcrmittea  to  remain  long  in  that  locality  before 
you  see  them  again  closed  together,  and  hanging  down 
before  him.  .  .  .  He  is  alwavs  listened  to  with  much 
attention  by  the  House,  and  appears  to  be  highly  iv- 
spected  by  men  of  all  parties.  He  is  a  man  of  g(>'  d 
business  habits." 


1 


!  ; 


III  ...   :.i 
'  -   HI 


i 
I 


^ 


iho  Pool 
)nnie. 

iblislicd, 
n  wliif'li 
iiing  tlif 
or. 

and  \v;is 

lacaulay 

lu'riiir. 

ntt'i'S  (if 

voluino. 

3     of    the 

"Clmrcli 

[liniiif,'  a 
1"e  iKadc 
iimus  of 
■d   iinuu^- 

lllS.        Ill' 

from  the 
opinions, 
•s  of  Mr. 
.  bnt  not 
])otli  liis 
I'cd  tlicni 
unclasjis 
e.  Thi'V 
ty  l)efore 
ng  down 
th  inucli 
i'''hlv    rt'- 

of    g(>".(l 


WILLIAM  EWAllT  GLADSTOXE. 


4-21 


In  August,  I808,  ]\rr.  Gladstone  again  visited  Italy, 
and  explored  Sieily,  making  the  ascent  of  Blount  Etna 
on  October  .30,  at  the  conimencement  of  the  eru})ti()n  of 
IS.'JS.  Tie  witnessed,  and  graphically  describes,  tht^  erup- 
tion whereby  lava  masses  n-.'ighing  two  hundred  pounds 
were  thrown  to  the  distance  of  probiibly  a  i.iile  and  a 
half,  and  smaller  masses  much  farther. 

On  Julv  2;")  of  the  following  year.  l(SoO.  ^^r.  Gladstone, 
then  thirty  years  of  age,  married  ^Nliss  Catherine  Glynne, 
three  years  his  junior,  daughter  of  Sir  iStephcn  Itichard 
Glvnne,  of  Ilawarden  Castle,  whose  Welsh  ancestry  can 
be  traced  for  more  than  a  thousand  years.  Her  brother. 
Sir  Stephen  Glynne,  jNI.P.,  died  unmarrie(l  in  1874,  so 
that  the  estate  was  bequeathed  to  ^\\\  Gladstone  for 
life,  and  afterwards  to  his  eldest  son.  Mrs.  Gladstone's 
sister,  ]\[iss  ]\[ary  Glynne,  was  married  at  the  same  time 
and  i)lace,  to  Lord  Lyttleton,  to  whom  I\Ir.  Gladstone 
dedicated  "in  token  of  sincere  affection,"  his  ••Church 
Principles  considered  in  their  Results."  The  sisters 
were  called  "the  handsome  ]\[iss  Glynnes."  AFr.  Glad- 
stone,  upon  his  marriage,  made  Ilawarden  Castle  his 
home,  buying  a  portion  of  the  property.  H»;i<-,  in  his 
study,  much  of  his  omnivorous  reading  has  been  accom- 
plished, and  most  of  his  many  books  have  been  written. 

The  old  Ilawarden  Castle,  now  a  ruin,  was  in  use  in 
the  wars  of  the  Saxons  and  Danes,  and  was  rebuilt  in 
the  time  of  Edward  I.  or  ll. 

The  modern  castle  is  brick,  incased  in  gray  stone,  with 
many  towers  and  battlements,  and  mu(di  overgrown  with 
ivy.  At  the  foot  of  the  towers,  says  ]\Ir.  Edward  Pose, 
in  the  Illustrated  London  Xcirs  of  August  .'5,  18S9, 
"bright  beds  of  flowers,  scarlet,  blue,  and  gold.  s[)arkl(' 
in  the  sun  against  lawns  of  grass  ;  and  trees  of  all  greens 


ill 


i-11 


ntLLlAit  KWAtlT  OLAnsTOyE. 


m  -ill 


\A 


ii 


stand  round,  from  lightest  of  groen  leaves  to  sombre 
hollies.  .  .  .  Everything  is  old-fashioned,  quiet,  and 
eoiufortable.  .  .  .  Nothing  eould  be  simpler  than  Mrs. 
(iliu^ stone's  own  living-room,  bright  and  sunny,  yellow- 
walled,  flower-seented,  with  an  outlook  from  its  wide 
windows  upon  the  lawn.  It  is  hung  with  old  pieturi  s, 
and  in  a  case  by  the  wall  are  many  presents  to  Mrs. 
Gladstone  from  cities  which  she  has  visited." 

The  library  is  a  southern  room,  in  white  and  gold, 
with  family  portraits  on  the  walls.  ^Nlr.  Gladstone  reads 
in  several  languages,  Greek,  Latin,  French,  German,  and 
especially  Italian,  and  has  a  wonderful  memory;  so  well 
cultivated  that  he  retains  what  he  reads.  He  b(diev(>s 
the  golden  age  of  literature  is  to  come.  In  "I>ooks  and 
the  Housing  of  Them,"  he  says :  "  Whatever  may  be  the 
present  rate  of  growth,  it  is  small  with  what  it  is  likely 
to  become. 

"The  key  of  the  question  lies  in  the  hands  of  the 
United  Kingdom  and  the  United  States  jointly.  In  this 
matter  there  rests  upon  these  two  powers  no  small  re- 
sponsibility. They,  with  their  vast  range  of  inhabited 
territory,  and  their  unity  of  tongue,  are  masters  of  the 
world,  which  will  have  to  do  as  they  do. 

"When  the  Britons  and  Americans  are  fused  into  one 
book  market;  when  it  is  recognized  that  letters,  whicli 
as  to  their  material  and  their  aim  are  a  high-soaring  pro- 
fession, as  to  their  mere  remuneration  are  a  trade  ;  when 
artificial  fetters  are  relaxed,  and  printers,  publishers,  and 
authors  obtain  the  reward  which  well-regulated  commerce 
would  afford  them,  then  let  floors  beware  lest  they  crack, 
and  .vails  lest  they  bulge  and  burst,  from  the  weight  of 
books  they  will  havti  to  carry  and  to  confine." 

Kr.    Gladstone's     study    is   called    "'  the    Temple    of 


WILLI  A  }r  EWAirr  aLADsroxi:. 


4-2:1 


sombrn 
ct,  and 
in  Mrs. 
yellow- 

ts    M-i(l(> 

)i('tiii't's, 
to  AFrs. 

<1  gold, 
10  re.'ids 
nail,  and 
;  so  well 
b(diovos 
^oks  and 
Lv  1)0  the 
is  likoly 

s  of  the 
In  this 
small  !•(>- 
nli;ibit('d 
rs  of  the 

into  one 
L'S,  whicli 
ring  pru- 
le  ;  when 
hoi'S,  and 
oinmorce 
ey  crack, 
^'eight  of 


m|)l 


e    01 


Poaco,"  because  here  the  author  and  thinker  must  have 
quiet.  l)()oks  abound  in  oases  built  on  each  side  of  this 
room.  About  in.OOO  are  here  and  in  the  libr.ary.  These 
volumes  are  loaned  to  neighbors,  the  names  of  borrowers 
being  ent(>red  in  a  book  kept  for  that  [)ur})()se. 

The  walls  above  the  books  are  of  a  deej)  red.  with 
white  jdaquos  here  and  there.  Here  are  busts  of  Cob- 
don,  Spurgeon,  John  liright,  Canning,  Keaconstield,  and 
a  i)ortrait  in  relief  of  Tennyson. 

Three  writing-tables  are  in  this  Temple  of  Peace,  (^ne 
is  used  for  political  and  business  correspondence,  one  for 
literary  work,  and  a  third  is  j\Irs.  Gladstone's.  In  a  safe 
embedded  in  the  wall,  is  kept  carefully  liled  all  of  yiv. 
Gladstone's  correspondence  for  years.  When  in  otHce, 
four  secretaries  open  his  letters  ;  when  out  of  oflice.  he 
has  but  one  secretary.  The  writers  to  whom  Mr.  Glad- 
stone deehires  himself  most  indebted  are  St.  Augustine, 
Bishop  Butler,  Dante,  ard  Aristotle.  Of  course  he  does 
not  forget  Homer. 

The  room  adjoining  the  "  Temple  of  Peace  "  is  a  room 
containing  two  pianos  and  an  organ.  j\Ir.  Gladstone  is 
said  to  play  well  on  the  piano,  and  is  especially  fond  of 
ballads  and  Scotch  airs. 

A  park  of  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  acres  surrounds 
Hawarden  Castle.  Oaks,  beeches,  and  sycamores  abound. 
A  pretty  stream,  Broughton  Brook,  runs  through  the 
valley. 

INIr.  Gladstone  usually  works  in  the  morning,  after  at- 
tending prayers  at  the  church  near  by  ;  walks  for  an  hour 
after  luncheon ;  and  often  from  three  to  four  for  exercise 
uses  his  axe  in  cutting  down  trees,  not  sound  ones,  but 
such  as  need  to  be  removed,  for  Ik^  is  a  lover  of  trees  as 
he  is  of  books.     He  rarelv  drives,  and  does  not  hunt  or 

XT 

fish. 


424 


n  ILLIAM    KW'AIiT  (iLADSTOXE. 


When  Sir  Robort  Teel  hooamft  rriiuo  iMiiiister  for  tlio 
second  time  in  1841,  ]\[r.  Ghulstone  was  a])pointe(l  Vice- 
President  of  the  Board  of  Trade,  and  ]\[aster  of  tlio 
Mint.  Here  the  young  statesman  began  more  than  ever 
before  to  show  his  power. 

The  discussion  of  the  repeal  of  the  Corn  Laws  was 
rapidly  increasing.  The  country  was  in  great  financial 
distress.  Peel  realized  that  articles  of  consumption  could 
not  bear  a  higher  tax,  and  determined  to  reduce  indirect 
taxation,  and  raise  money  by  a  tax  of  seven  pence  on 
the  pound  on  incomes  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
and  upwards.  Out  of  twelve  hundred  duty-paying  arti- 
cles there  was  a  reduction  or  abolition  of  duty  on  about 
seven  hundred  and  fiftv.  Tliis  tariif  revision  was  al- 
most  entirely  the  work  of  Gladstone. 

In  1843  Gladstone  became  president  of  the  P)oard  of 
Trade,  filling  the  vacancy  made  by  the  death  of  the 
Earl  of  Ripon.  He  introduced  and  carried  several  im- 
portant measures,  among  them  one  al)olisliing  the  re- 
strictions on  the  exportation  of  machinery,  and  another, 
a  comprehensive  Railway  Pill.  One  clause  of  the  bill 
which  was  of  great  benefit  to  the  poor  "  provided  that 
at  least  one  train  on  every  week-day  should  start  from 
each  end  of  the  line  to  carry  passengers  in  covered  car- 
riages for  one  penny  per  mile  ;  .  .  .  that  they  sliould 
stop  to  take  up  and  set  down  passengers  at  every  sta- 
tion ;  .  .  .  and  that  children  under  three  years  of  age 
should  be  conveyed  in  such  trains  without  charge,  and 
those  under  twelve  at  half  price," 

Tn  1845  Mr.  Gladstone  resigned  his  position  in  the 
cabinet,  on  account  of  Peel's  jNIaynooth  College  eiulow- 
ment  in  Ireland,  because  in  opposition  to  his  expressed 
views  on  the  relations  of  Church  and  State. 


n'lLLTAM   EWAUT  GLADSTO.YK. 


42n 


Gladstone  took  office  again  iiiidei'  Peel  in  1840,  as 
Colonial  and  War  Secretary.  Like  IVel,  he  had  been  a 
Protectionist,  and,  like  him,  had  become  an  ardent  con- 
vert to  Free  Trade.  He  retired  from  the  Protectionist 
borough  of  Newark,  and  after  a  most  exciting  contest, 
was  elected  to  represent  his  alma  mater,  Oxford  Uni- 
versity, in  1847. 

The  winter  of  1S50  Mr.  Gladstone  spent  in  Italy,  on 
account  of  the  illness  of  a  very  young  daughter.  With 
an  especial  fondness  for  that  country,  he  could  not  sit 
idly  by  and  witness  the  despotic  cruelty  of  Ferdinand 
the  Second,  in  Naples. 

The  people  of  Sicily,  united  against  their  will  vith 
Naples,  revolted,  and  deposed  Ferdinand.  He  recon- 
quered them,  and  then  proceeded  to  destroy  all  yearn- 
ings for  liberty,  by  the  sword,  by  iire,  and  by  the 
imprisonment  of  those  who  desired  a  constitutional 
government.  Twenty  thousand  of  his  subjects  were  in 
the  dungeons  of  Naples.  Men  were  carried  to  prison 
without  trial,  and  hunted  like  wild  animals. 

Mr.  Gladstone  visited  these  prisons,  and  in  the  name 
of  humanity  wrote  the  particulars  to  Lord  Aberdeen. 
These  letters  are  now  to  be  read  in  the  fourth  of  the 
seven  volumes  of  "  Gleanings  of  Past  Years."  He  de- 
scribed the  filth,  the  chains,  the  horror,  of  these  prisons, 
where  leading  statesmen  were  confined  year  after  year  ; 
''the  official  doctors  not  going  to  the  sick  prisoners,  but 
the  sick  prisoners,  men  almost  with  death  on  their  faces, 
toiling  up-stairs  to  them  at  that  charnel-house  of  the 
Vicaria,  because  the  lower  regions  of  such  a  palace  of 
darkness  are  too  foul  and  loathsome  to  allow  it  to  be 
expected  that  professional  men  should  consent  to  earn 
bread  by  entering  them." 


'    1' 


%i 


li  '> 


,!l 


m  !i'  ;.  !: 


m 


,'  li 


'  -I ; 


-  '■  I' 


I 


426 


WILLIAM  EWAUT  GLADSTONE. 


Carlo  Poerio,  a  prominent  member  of  the  Neapolitun 
Parliament,  a  man  of  great  talents,  was  confined  witli 
sixteen  others  in  a  cell,  wli(^re,  "when  their  beds  were  lot 
down  at  night,  there  was  no  space  whatever  between 
them ;  they  conld  only  get  out  at  the  foot,  and.  hom^j; 
chained  two  and  two,  only  in  pairs.  .  .  .  Each  man  weai's 
(I  strong  leather  girth  round  him  above  the  hips.  In 
this  are  secured  the  upper  ends  of  two  chains.  One  chain 
of  four  long  and  heavy  links  descends  to  a  kind  of  double 
ring  fixed  round  the  ankle.  The  second  chain  consists 
of  eiglit  links,  each  of  the  same  weight  and  length  with 
the  four,  and  this  unites  the  two  prisoners  together,  so 
chat  they  can  stand  about  six  feet  apart.  Neither  of 
these  chains  is  ever  undone  day  or  night."  .  .  . 

These  letters  raised  a  cry  of  indignation  throughout 
Europe.  Lord  Palirerston  sent  copies  of  the  letters  to 
be  laid  before  each  government,  that  the  evils  of  abso- 
lute rule  might  be  remedied.  Of  course,  harsh  and  viru- 
lent replies  were  returned  to  the  letters,  by  those  in  the 
interest  of  King  Eerdinand. 

While  much  of  the  severity  to  prisoners  was  mitigated 
at  the  time  through  public  opinion,  in  the  end  Italy  was 
helped  to  a  liberal  constitution.  The  world  learned 
through  Ferdinand,  and  Gladstone  has  helped  the  peo])le 
to  learn  it,  that  it  is  not  safe  to  trust  any  human  bcin^- 
with  absolute  power.  Siberian  prisons  in  our  day  have 
vci'ified  the  same  truth. 

When  Lord  Ai)erdeen  became  Prime  INIinister  at  the 
close  of  1852,  Ghidstone  was  made  Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer,  and  introduced  his  first  budget  April  IS. 
185.3,  in  the  House  of  ConiuK.r.s.  For  five  hours  he  han- 
dled matters  of  finan(;e  and  taxes  with  the  greatest  skill 
and  eloquence,  the  audience  listening  spell-bound.     His 


r 


liii  as 


'poll  tail 
!(1  witli 
vere  l(^t 

,  bciiisr 
II  wears 

pS.       Ill 

10  chain 
double 
consists 
:tli  with 
'ther,  so 
ither  of 

ougliout 
3ttors  to 
of  abso- 
mcl  vi  ru- 
se in  the 

litigated 
taly  \\as 
learned 
e  peo])le 
111  be  inn- 
lay  have 

['  at  the 
of  tlie 
pril  IS, 
lie  lian- 
est  skill 
(1.      His 


)\'ILLIAM   EWAltT  GLADSTOXE. 


4-27 


command  of  language  never  for  a  second  failed  liim.  but 
with  fluency  and  grace,  as  well  as  grasp  of  mind,  the 
orator  showed  his  consummate  statesmanship.  More  than 
ever  he  was  looked  upon  as  the  man  in  whose  hands 
England's  greatness  would  be  secure  for  the  future;  a 
financier  equal  to,  if  not  surpassing,  Peel.  He  proposed 
to  retain  the  income  tax  for  one  year,  gradually  dimin- 
ishing it  till  it  should  disappear  in  1860,  He  reduced 
over  one  hundred  and  thirty  taxes,  the  total  amount  of 
remissions  estinated  rt  over  five  millions.  His  scheme 
for  the  reduction  of  the  national  debt,  which  had  so 
increased  under  William  Pitt,  was  most  accepto.ble  to  the 
country. 

Gladstone  was  opposed  to  the  Crimean  War,  for  hu- 
manitarian as  well  as  national  reasons.  It  was  a  costly 
measure,  it  added  to  the  burdens  of  the  people,  and  Kus- 
sia  was  not  to  him,  as  to  some  English  statesmen,  a  con- 
stant fear  and  menace.  While  the  people  clamored  for 
war,  he  was  not  afraid  to  be  on  the  unpopular  side. 
When  they  talked  of  the  necessity  for  humbling  Russia, 
he  said :  "  All  the  terms  we  had  demanded  had  been  sub- 
stantially conceded,  and  if  it  was  not  for  terms  we  fought, 
but  for  military  success,  let  the  House  look  at  the  senti- 
ment with  the  eye  of  reason,  and  it  would  appear  immoral, 
inhuman,  and  unchristian.  If  the  war  continued  in 
order  to  obtain  military  glory,  we  should  tempt  Hiin  in 
whose  hands  was  the  fate  of  armies,  to  launch  upon  us 
His  wrath." 

In  the  autumn  of  1858  IMr.  Gladstone  was  appointed 
by  the  Earl  of  Derby,  then  Prime  ]\rinister,  to  the  posi- 
tion of  Lord  High  Commissioner  Extiaordinary  to  the 
Ionian  Islands,  which,  though  under  the  protection  of 
England,  wished  to  unite  with  Greece.     This  Gladstone 


m\ 


'i 


11 


li 


m 


I'll 

■'!     i 

n  Si 


1..   ! 


■j  ; 

'■i 


ii: 


!   n' 


I 


4128 


ir/AL/.IJ/   KlIMA-r  GLADSTONE. 


favored,  as  being  the  will  of  the  people.  The  union  was 
consummated  in  18G-4. 

INIr.  Gladstone  was  appropriately  chosen  for  this  mis- 
sion. From  early  life,  he  has  been  a  devoted  student  of 
the  ancient  Greeks.  Homer  has  been  his  delight  aiul 
his  almost  daily  comjianion.  In  1858  he  had  already 
published  his  '•  Studies  on  Homer  and  the  Homeric  Age,"' 
in  three  large  volumes. 

Edward  A.  Freeman  says  of  these  volumes  :  "  As  the 
work  of  one  of  our  first  orators  and  statesmen,  they  are 
altogether  wonderful.  Not,  indeed,  that  ^l\\  Gladstone's 
two  characters  of  scholar  and  statesman  have  done  aught 
but  help  and  strengthen  one  another.  .  .  .  AVhat  strikes 
one  more  than  anything  else  throughout  j\Ir.  Gladstone's 
volumes  is  the  intense  earnestness,  the  loftiness  of  moral 
purpose,  which  breathes  in  every  page." 

"  Like  the  sun,"  says  Mr.  Gladstone,  "  which  furnishes 
with  its  light  the  close  courts  and  alleys  of  London, 
while  himself  unseen  by  their  inhabitants.  Homer  has 
supplied  Avith  the  illumination  of  his  ideat-,  •uillions  of 
minds  that  were  never  brought  into  direct  contact  with 
his  works,  and  even  millions  more  that  have  hardly  been 
aware  of  his  existence." 

j\Ii.  Gladstone  three  years  later,  in  1801,  published  in 
conjunction  with  Lord  Lyttleton,  a  voluuiC  of  transla- 
tions from  the  Iliad,  the  Agamemnon  of  .^Eschylus,  and 
the  Odes  of  Horace.  In  reviewing  this  volume  the  Edin- 
burgh Revieiu  said,  "  In  translating  poetry  of  a  high 
class,  Gladstone  takes  rank,  beyond  the  possibility  of 
controversy,  in  the  forefront  of  the  very  best  translators."' 

Many  books  have  appeared  from  INIr.  Gladstone's  p(  ii, 
along  the  line  of  Homeric  study:  "  Juventus  Minidi  : 
Gods  and  Men  of  the  Heroic  Age  in  Greece,"  in   18(11); 


WILLIAM  EWART  GLADSTONE. 


429 


"  Homeric  S3'iiclironism  "  in  187G  ;  and  "  Landmarks  of 
Homeric  Study  "  as  recently  as  1890 ;  besides  various 
essays  in  the  leading  magazines,  and  a  preface  to  Dr. 
Schliemann's  "  ]\rycen[e."  Gladstone  believes  tlin  c  the  site 
of  Troy,  or  Ilium,  was  discovered  by  Dr.  Schliemann, 
■when  he  excavated  the  hill  of  Hissarlik,  in  1871-73. 

The  farewell  address  as  Lord  Rector  of  the  University 
of  Edinburgh,  given  by  ]Mr.  Gladstone,  November  3,  1805, 
is  a  scholarly  address  on  the  "  Place  of  Ancient  Greece 
in  tlie  Providential  Order."  No  one  can  read  it  without 
a  desire  for  deeper  study,  and  a  reverence  for  much 
which  the  polished  present  era  seems  to  have  lost. 

"  When  we  are  seeking,"  says  Mr.  Gladstone,  '•'  to 
ascertain  the  measure  of  that  conception  which  an}'  given 
race  has  formed  of  our  nation,  there  is  perhaps  no  single 
test  so  effective  as  the  position  which  it  assigns  to  woman. 
.  .  .  The  emancipation  and  due  ascendency  of  woman  are 
not  iv  mere  fact :  they  are  the  emphatic  assertion  of  a  prin- 
ciple ;  and  that  principle  is  the  dethronement  of  the  law 
of  force,  and  the  enthronement  of  other  and  liigher  laws 
in  its  place,  and  in  its  despite." 

In  1859  Mr.  Gladstone,  on  his  return  from  Greece, 
again  became  Chancellor  of  tlie  Exchequer,  under  Lord 
Palmerston.  The  budget,  or  financial  statement  of  18(50 
given  in  a  four-hours  speech,  held  the  closest  attention 
of  a  packed  House. 

This  year,  1800,  when  IMr.  Gladstone  was  installed  Lord 
Rector  of  Edinburgh  University,  he  said  to  the  students  : 
..."  Believe  me,  when  I  tell  vouthat  the  thrift  of  time 
will  repay  you  in  after  life  with  an  usiuy  of  profit  be- 
yond your  most  sanguine  dreams,  and  tliat  the  waste  of 
it  will  make  you  dwindle,  alike  in  intellectual  and  in 
moral  stature,  beneath  your  darkest  reckonings." 


It    ' 


H 


m: 


I' 


Id 


V: 


\m. 


lil'    i-i:i:- 


4- 


M    ■   i 


Iff'  i'l 

■mi'  i! 


'i-  M! 


.■-!r 


iJ' 


\   i 


!     r 


f:    1 


430 


VILLIAM  EWART  GLADSTONE. 


He  encouraged  those  who  are  fighting  the  battle  of 
life :  "  When  they  are  for  a  moment  disheartened  by 
that  difficulty  which  is  the  :..--.e  and  rocking  cradle  oF 
every  kind  of  excellence  ;  when  ^hey  are  conscious  of 
the  pinch  of  i^overty  and  self-denial,  —  l"t  them  be  con- 
scious, too,  that  a  sleepless  Eye  is  watching  them  from 
above ;  that  their  honest  efforts  are  assisted,  their 
liumble  prayers  are  heard,  and  all  things  are  working 
together  for  their  good.  .  .  . 

"  Gentlemen,  the  hope  of  an  enduring  fame  is  without 
doubt  a  powerful  incentive  to  virtuous  action;  and  you 
may  suffer  it  to  float  before  you  as  a  vision  of  refresh- 
ment, second  always,  and  second  with  a  long  interval 
between,  to  your  conscience  and  to  the  \,  il:  jf  GoO.  .  . 
The  thirst  of  an  enduring  fame  is  ne:..-  . '.  :n  to  the  love 
of  true  excellence.  But  the  fame  of  the  momeat  is  a 
dangerous  possession  and  a  bastard  motive." 

In  1862  Mr.  Gladstone  made  a  visit  to  the  North  of 
England,  speaking  in  various  towns.  At  New  Castle-on- 
Tyne,  a  banquet  was  given  in  his  honor.  Trade  was 
paralyzed  by  the  American  Civil  War,  and  naturally  all 
were  eager  to  hear  what  the  eloquent  statesman  would 
say  on  the  subject.  He  commended  the  patience  of  the 
operatives  in  their  long  suffering;  and,  referring  to  the 
Southern  Confederacy,  said  that  Jefferson  Davis  and 
the  other  leaders  of  the  South,  had  made  an  army,  a 
nav}',  and  a  nation.  ''  We  may  anticipate  with  certainty 
the  success  of  the  Southern  States,  so  far  as  regards 
their  separation  from  the  North." 

^Iv.  Gladstone  frankly  aoknowh'dgcd  his  mistake,  in  a 
letter  to  a  correspondent  in  New  York  in  August,  1807. 
"I  must  confess,"  he  wrote,  "that  I  was  wrong;  tli;  t  1 
took  too  much  upon  myself  in  expressing  such  ;ui  opi- 


m^  '  'I'  IS 


'I  m 


1 

J 


WILLI  A  M  K  \VA  li  T  GL  A  DS  7'O.Y  /';. 


431 


ion;  yet  the  motive  was  not  bad.  ]\Iy  syin[)athies  were 
then  where  they  had  long  before  been,  wliere  they  are 
now,  —  with  the  whole  American  people."  He  opposed, 
in  an  eloquent  speech,  Mr.  Iloebuck's  motion  asking  that 
the  Queen  ao*"  with  other  great  powers  ''  in  the  recogni- 
tion of  the  Confederate  States  of  North  America." 

Speaking  of  our  calamitous  war,  Gladstone  said  in 
1S84:  "The  convulsion  of  that  country  between  1861 
and  1865  was  perhaps  the  most  frightful  which  ever 
assailed  a  national  existence.  The  efforts  which  were 
made  on  both  sides  were  marked.  The  exertions,  by 
which  alone  the  movement  was  put  down,  were  not  only 
extraordinary,  they  were  what  antecedently  would  have 
been  called  impossible ;  and  they  were  only  rendered 
possible  by  the  fact  that  they  proceeded  from  a  nation 
where  every  capable  citizen  was  enfranchised,  and  had  a 
direct  and  an  energetic  interest  in  the  well-being  and  the 
unity  of  the  state." 

That  Mr.  Gladstone  has  the  highest  admiration  and 
regard  for  America;  is  shown  by  his  '•'  Kin  Beyond  Sea," 
published  in  the  North  American  Review  for  September, 
1878.  Speaking  of  America  he  says :  "  It  is  she  alone 
who,  at  a  coming  time,  can  and  probably  will  wrest  from 
us  that  commercial  primacy.  We  have  no  title.  I  have  no 
inclination,  to  murmur  at  the  prospect.  If  she  acquires 
it,  she  will  make  the  acquisition  by  the  right  of  the 
strongest ;  but  in  this  insoance,  the  strongest  means  the 
best.  She  will  probablv  become  what  we  are  now,  — 
the  head  servant  in  the  great  household  of  the  world, 
the  employer  of  all  employed ;  because  her  service  will 
be  the  most  and  ablest.  .  .  . 

"She  is  the  eldest  born.  She  has,  taking  the  capacity 
of  her  land  into  view  as  well  as  its  mere  measurement, 


432 


WILLIAM  E  WA R T  OLA  DSTONE. 


li    i 


a  natural  base  for  Jie  greatest  continuous  empire  ever 
established  by  man.  .  .  .  Tlie  England  and  the  America 
of  the  present  are  probably  the  two  strongest  nations  of 
the  world.  .  .  .  r>ut  all  this  pompous  detail  of  material 
trill mphs,  whether  for  the  one  or  for  the  other,  is  worse 
than  idle,  unless  the  men  of  the  two  countries  sliall 
remain  or  sliall  become  greater  than  the  mere  thinn-s 
that  they  produce,  and  shall  know  how  to  regard  those 
things  simply  as  tools  and  materials  for  the  attainment 
of  the  highest  purposes  of  their  being." 

In  18G5  Mr.  Gladstone  was  defeated  at  Oxford  Uni- 
versity. He  was  known  to  be  in  favor  of  an  extended 
franchise,  and  to  have  broadened  his  views  on  the  dis- 
establishment of  the  Irish  Church.  The  Liberals  were 
overjoyed  that  at  last  Gladstone,  as  he  himself  said,  was 
'•'unmuzzled."  He  was  no  longer  bound  by  the  aristo- 
cratic and  conservative  Oxford. 

He  accepted  his  defeat  without  bitterness,  saying:  "I 
have  endeavored  to  serve  that  University  with  my  whole 
heart,  and  with  the  strength  or  weakness  of  wliatever 
faculties  God  has  given  me.  .  .  .  I/ong  has  she  borne 
with  me ;  long,  in  spite  of  active  opposition,  did  she 
resist  every  effort  to  displace  me." 

Mr.  Gladstone  was  returned  to  Parliament  from  Soutli 
Lancashire.  As  in  1832,  the  people  ^/ere  demanding  ;iii 
extension  of  the  suffrage.  Gladstone  was  abreast  of  thf 
age.  "  It  is  to  be  desired,"  he  said,  ''  that  all  those  who 
live  in  a  country  should  take  an  interest  in  that  coun- 
try, —  should  love  that  country.  C)ne  of  the  means  of 
fostering  such  an  interest,  and  such  a  love,  is  to  invest 
them  v.itli  a  share  in  affairs  common  to  others  with 
themselves."  He  spoke  of  America  as  a  countiy  whicli 
prospered  under  a  general  suffrage,  —  "  where,"  said  he, 


*l 


i  1 


re  ever 
America 
tions  of 
naturial 
s  worso 
iS  shall 
i  tliiiiq-s 
d  those 
lininent 

rd  Uni- 
xtended 
the  dis- 
ils  were 
lid,  w;is 
aristo- 

ing:  "I. 
\y  wlioh^ 
'hatever 
e  borne 
did  she 

n  South 
idiiiL,'  an 
t  of  the 
ose  wlio 
xt  coun- 
icaiis  of 
3  invest 
TS  with 
V  which 
said  he, 


] 


' 


WILLIAM  EWART  GLADSTONE. 


433 


*'  throughout  the  vast  territory  there  is  not  a  man  who  is 
not  loyal  to  the  Constitution."  He  has  said  of  our  Con- 
stitution that  it  is,  "  so  far  a?  I  can  see,  the  most  wonder- 
ful work  ever  struck  off,  at  a  given  time,  by  the  brain 
and  purpose  of  man." 

In  an  impassioned  address,  Mr.  Gladstone  said:  "We 
are  told  that  the  working-classes  do  not  agitate  for  an 
extension  of  the  franchise ;  but  is  it  desirable  that  we 
should  wait  until  they  do  agitate  ?  In  my  opinion, 
agitation  by  the  working-classes,  upon  any  political 
subject  whatever,  is  a  thing  not  to  be  waited  for,  not 
to  be  made  a  condition  previous  to  any  Parliamentary 
movement ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  a  thing  to  be 
deprecated,  and,  if  possible,  anticipated  and  prevented 
by  wise  and  provident  measures.  ...  I  venture  to  say 
that  every  man  who  is  not  presumably  incapacitated  by 
some  consideration  of  personal  unfitness,  or  of  political 
danger,  is  morally  entitled  to  come  within  the  pale  of 
the  Constitution." 

In  March  of  18GG  Gladstone  introduced  the  new  Re- 
form Bill,  by  which  the  franchise  would  be  extended  to 
about  400,000  new  voters.  It  met  with  the  fiercest 
opposition.  Some  members  of  the  House  spoke  scorn- 
fully of  "  maudlin  enthusiasm  for  humanity  !  "  Tlic 
controversy  raged  night  after  night  in  the  House  of 
Commons.  Gladstone  and  Bright  spoke  wdth  all  their 
fire  and  persuasion.  Gladstone  declared  of  himself  and 
his  party :  "  We  have  passed  the  Rubicon  —  we  have 
broken  the  bridge,  and  burned  the  boats  behind  us. 
We  have  advisedly  cut  off  the  means  of  retreat;  and 
having  done  this,  we  hope  that,  as  far  as  time  is  yet  per- 
mitted, we  have  done  our  duty  to  the  Crown  and  to  the 
nation."  ... 


i 


4     I 


■  i  i 
, ,  ■■  '  -I 
M  :!   ■  :!■  V' 


I 


434 


WILLIAM  E]VAET  GLADS''X)XE. 


)u'  who  ]  card  t-  o  speech  said,  of  that  exciting  night 
oi  debate  :  "  Tt  ^vas  twilight  brightening  into  ti.iy,  -wlieu 
v/e  :^or,  out  into  the  welcome  fresh  air  of  New  Palace 
Yard.  ...  It  was  a  night  long  to  be  remembered.  The 
House  of  Commons  had  listened  to  the  grandest  oration 
ever  yet  delivered  by  the  greatest  orator  of  his  age." 

]Mr.  r.right  said  of  Gladstone:  ""Who  is  there  in  the 
House  of  Commons  who  equals  him  in  knowledge  of  all 
political  questions  ?  "Who  equals  him  in  earn  ?stncss  ? 
A\  ho  equals  him  in  eloquence  ?  "Who  equais  him  in 
courage  and  fidelit}'  to  his  convictions  ?  " 

The  Government  was  defeated  on  the  Eeforni  Bill, 
and  Mr.  Gladstone's  position  of  Chancellor  of  the  Ex- 
chequer was  taknn  by  his  rival  Disraeli.  The  riots  in 
Hyde  Park,  the  great  gatherings  in  P)irmingliam  and 
other  towns,  the  wild  cry  of  the  masses  for  the  passage 
of  the  Reform  Bill,  led  Benjamin  Disraeli  to  give  to 
England,  in  18G7,  household  suffrage.  ]\rany  of  the  best 
things  in  this  bill  were  the  work  of  Mr.  Gladstone. 

Now  that  the  Reform  Bill  was  passed,  the  great 
question  agitating  the  country  was  the  disestablishment 
of  the  Irish  Church.  Mr.  Gladstone,  who  had  once  been 
the  most  powerful  advocate  of  the  Establishment,  now 
saw  the  condition  of  Ireland  in  her  hatred  of  an  alien 
church,  which  she  was  obliged  to  help  support. 

In  ISOl  the  population  of  Ireland  was  5,788,415. 
The  members  of  the  Established  Church  numbered 
693,357,  or  less  than  one-eighth  of  the  total  population ; 
while  ciie  members  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  num- 
bered 4,205,205,  or  ten  out  of  every  thirteen  of  the 
population. 

"The  Church  of  a  small  minority,"  says  INIr.  G.  P. 
Macdonellj  in  "Two  Centuries  of  Irish  History,"  "  com- 


hm 


I  ■  \ 
if    i 


WILLIAM  EWART  GLADSTONE. 


435 


ig  ni.qlit 
y,  when 
7  Palace 
d.     The 

oration 
ige." 
3  in  the 
JO  of  all 
^stness  ? 

him   in 

rni  Bill, 
the  Ex- 
riots  in 
lam  and 
passage 
give  to 
the  best 
•ne. 

le  great 
lishment 
nee  been 
ent,  now 
an  alien 

,788,415. 
nmbered 
)nlation  ; 
ch  num- 
i  of   the 

r.  G.  P. 


"  a 


com- 


prising the  most  prosperons  inhabitants  of  Ireland,  thus 
received  an'annnal  subsidy  of  more  than  a  million  ster- 
ling, while  the  rest  of  the  people  were  left  to  provide 
for  their  own  religious  war!. ;." 

In  the  latter  part  of  *JaT>  ■!,  1868,  INIr.  Gladstone 
astonished  the  Conserval^^'^P  i^  his  declaration,  ''Tliat 
in  the  opinion  of  this  'x3u  d  it  is  necessary  that  the 
Established  Church  of  Ire:  lul  should  cease  to  exist  as 
an  establislrnent." 

In  a  brilliant  speech  lie  said:  "If  we  are  prudent  men, 
I  hope  we  shall  endeavor,  as  far  as  in  us  lies,  to  nmko 
some  provision  for  a  contingent,  a  doubtful,  and  prob- 
ably a  dangerous  future.  If  we  be  chivalrous  men,  I 
trust  we  shall  endeavor  to  wipe  away  all  those  stains 
which  the  civilized  world  has  for  ages  seen,  or  seemed 
to  see,  on  the  shield  of  England  in  her  treatment  of 
Ireland.  .  .  .  But,  above  all,  if  we  be  just  men,  we  shall 
go  forward  in  the  name  of  truth  and  right,  bearing  this 
in  mind  —  that,  when  the  case  is  proved,  and  the  hour 
is  come,  justice  delayed  is  justice  denied." 

Gladstone  and  his  project  met  with  the  strongest  con- 
demnation. It  was  charged  that  when  at  Kome,  being 
a  Ivoman  Catholic  at  heart,  he  had  made  arrangements 
with  the  Pope  to  destroy  the  Established  Church  in 
Ireland.  He  was  called  "a  traitor  to  the  Queen,  his 
country,  and  his  God ; "  some  persons  hoped  he  would 
be  "perpetually  excluded  from  power  for  having  dared 
to  put  his  hand  on  the  ark  of  God,"  and  others  would 
have  liked  to  see  him  "hanging  as  high  as  Haman." 

An  appeal  to  the  country  was  made  on  the  Irish 
Church  question ;  the  Liberals  won  a  majority,  and 
Gladstone  became  Prime  INIinister  in  December,  1868,  a 
few  days  before  he  had  reached  his  fifty-ninth  year. 


436 


WILLIAM  EWAIiT  GLADSTONE. 


I 


?!^:f  '■ 


I! 


;iii 


m 


* 


On  March  1  Mr.  Gladstone  spoke  for  tlirec  lioiirs  ou 
the  Irish  Church  Act,  the  House  being  crowded  to  its 
utmost  capacity,  people  waiting  for  hours  to  obtain  a 
seat,  and  great  numbers  standing  outside,  anxious  to  be 
told  the  progress  of  events. 

Mr.  Gladstone  detailed  with  his  surpassing  eloquonct" 
the  provisions  of  the  Act;  the  Irish  Church  to  becoiiu" 
a  free  Episcopal  Church;  the  Irish  bishops  to  lose  tlicir 
seats  in  the  House  of  Lords;  the  Maynooth  Grant  to  \h'. 
commuted;  the  clergy  and  oflicials  to  be  compensated 
for  their  life-interest;  the  remaining  funds  to  be  applied 
to  the  relief  of  unavoidable  suffering. 

"For  my  part,"  he  said,  in  closing  his  speech,  "I  am 
deeply  convinced  that  when  the  final  consummation 
shall  arrive,  and  when  the  words  are  spoken  that  sliall 
give  the  force  of  law  to  the  work  embodied  in  this 
measure  —  the  w^orkof  peace  and  justice  —  those  words 
will  be  echoed  upon  every  shore  where  the  name  of  lie- 
land  or  the  name  of  Great  Britain  has  been  heard,  iiiul 
the  answer  to  them  will  come  back  in  the  approving 
verdict  of  civilized  mankind." 

The  Act  received  the  royal  assent  on  July  20.  It  luid 
excited  more  controversy  than  any  bill  since  that  of 
Reform  in  1832,  and  was,  says  the  Annual  llegistcr  for 
18G0,  "the  most  remarkable  legislative  a'diievement  of 
modern  times." 

Mr.  Gladstone  said  in  1874:  "I  must  say  I  do  not 
repent  the  part  I  took.  So  far  from  repenting  it,  if  1 
am  to  have  a  character  with  posterity  at  all  —  supposing 
that  posterity  is  ever  to  know  that  such  a  person  as 
myself  existed  in  this  country  —  I  am  perfectly  willing 
that  my  character  should  be  tried  simply  and  solely 
by  the  proceedings  to  which  I  was  a  party  with  regard 
to  the  Irish  Church  Establishment." 


ff 


WILLIAM  KH'A.. T  GLAD S TONE. 


437 


ours  on 
•1  to  its 
>i>taiii  a 
IS  to  be 

OflUOllCC 

)se  tlicir 
nt  to  \h\ 
)Oiisatc(l 

J  applied 

I,  "  I  am 
mmation 
lat  shall 
in  this 
se  words 
e  of  Ill- 
sard,  and 
pproving 

.     It  had 

that  of 

fistcr  lor 

L'munt  of 

I  do  not 

g  it,  ir  L 
upposing 
lerson  as 
y  willing 
id  solely 
h  regard 


The  results  of  disestablislunent  have  been  admirable, 
both  in  the  better  spirit  engendered  in  Ireland,  and  in 
the  wise  dis[)o.sition  of  funds.  "■  Out  of  the  surplus," 
says  ]\Ir.  Maedonell,  "Parliament  has  api)ropriated  to 
intermediate  edueation  in  Ireland,  £1,000,000;  to  a 
})ensio"  fund  for  national  school  teachers,  dt)l,oO(),000; 
for  distress  works,  J£l,271,o00;  under  the  Arrears 
for  Kent  Act,  1882,  £950,000;  and  for  sea-fisheries, 
£250,000." 

A  great  work  had  been  begun  for  Ireland ;  and  from 
that  time  Gladstone  has  never  ceased  in  his  one  grand 
purpose,  "  to  use  every  effort  to  remove  what  still  re- 
mains of  the  scandals  arid  calamities  in  the  relations 
which  exist  between  England  and  Ireland,  and  to  make 
our  best  efforts  at  least  to  fill  up  with  the  cement 
of  human  concord  the  noble  fabric  of  the  British 
Empire." 

On  February  15,  1870,  Mr.  Gladstone,  in  a  three-hours' 
speech,  introduced  his  Irish  Land  Act  before  a  crowded 
House.  The  land  of  Ireland  was  owned  by  compara- 
tively few  landlords. 

The  tenants  were  so  eager  for  land,  as  this  was  their 
only  means  of  living,  that  they  would  offer  more  than 
they  could  possibly  pay  for  it.  "  They  had  no  interest 
in  being  industrious  and  improving  their  land.  If  they 
improved  the  patch  of  soil  they  worked  on,  their  rent 
was  almost  certain  to  be  raised,  or  they  were  turned  out 
of  the  land  without  receiving  a  farthing  of  conipensation 
for  their  improvements." 

In  Ulster  the  tenant-right  system  prevailed.  It  was 
the  custom  in  that  part  of  Ireland  to  allow  a  tenant  to 
remain  on  the  land  as  long  as  he  paid  his  rent,  and, 
on   giving    up  the   land,  to   receive   compensatiou  for 


i 


lit  I. 


Nit  f^ 


1 1 


iiif 


438 


WILLIAM  EH'AUT  GLADSTONE. 


tlie  iinprovcniGuts  wliich  he  had  made,  and  to  have  the 
liberty  to  sell  the  "  good-will "  of  his  farm  in  the 
market. 

Lord  Palmerston  had  declared  that  "  tenant-right  is 
landlord's  Avrong,"  and  England  had  thus  far  seemed  to 
be  of  his  opiniori.  "Has  not  a  man  a  right  to  do  wiih 
his  own  land,  as  he  chooses?"'  was  eonstantlj' asktMl. 
And  it  was  answered  as  the  better  portion  of  the  world 
is  coming  to  answer  most  questions.  A  landlord  or 
employer  of  labor  may  do  what  he  likes  with  his  own, 
if  he  does  not  thereby  injure  society.  When  he  injures 
his  fellow-men,  then  the  state  should  interfere  for  the 
well-being  of  its  members. 

Ireland  was  growing  into  pauperism  and  crime  by 
insecurity  of  land  tenure,  and  high  rents.  ])y  ^Fr. 
Gladstone's  Land  Bill,  the  Ulster  tenant-right  became 
legal  in  other  parts  of  Ireland  ;  the  tenant,  disturbed  in 
the  possession  of  his  land,  could  claim  compensation  for 
his  improvements ;  facilities  were  given  for  the  loan  l)y 
government  of  two-thirds  of  the  purchase-money  to 
tenants  desirous  of  buying  their  holdings,  where  land- 
lords were  willing  to  sell.  About  three  hundred  amend- 
ments were  offered  to  the  Land  Bill ;  but  it  finally  passed 
the  Lords  and  Co'-imons,  and  became  a  law  in  August. 

In  the  following  year,  1871,  the  Army  Regulation 
lUll  was  passed,  whereby  the  purchase  system  for  ojli- 
cers'  commissions  was  abolished.  The  usual  rule  was 
for  an  officer  to  buy  his  commission,  and  his  promotion 
was  obtained  in  the  same  way.  IMoney,  rather  than 
merit,  gave  the  place  of  honor.  The  noble  Haveloek 
stated  that  three  sots  and  two  fools  had  purchased  over 
him,  and  that  "if  he  had  no  family  to  support  he  would 
not  serve   another  hour."      The  bill  fixed  a  day  after 


WILLIAM  EW'AIiT  ULADSTijyK. 


4;j0 


ivo  tlio 
in    the 

'i!-,^lit  is 
hh.mI  to 
lo  with 
usk('(l. 
I!  World 
ord  oi- 
ls own, 
injures 
for  the 

•ime  by 
]\y   Mr. 

became 
irbcd  in 
ition  for 

h)caii  by 
Dney  to 
re  hind- 

iunund- 
y  passed 
ii,nist. 
ijuhitioii 

for  olli- 
ule  was 
oniotion 
er  than 
'avidoek 
>e(l  over 
e  woiiUl 
ly  after 


which  no  pecuniary  interest  wouhl  be  taken  by  any  one 
in  any  new  commission.  Tlie  measure  was  ojjposea  as 
a  "sop  to  democracy,"  and  was  defeated  l)y  tlie  Lords, 
whereupon  tlie  Queen,  by  advice  of  Mr.  Ghidstone,  caii- 
celhul  the  royal  warrant  under  which  purcliase  was  h'gah 
Tlie  House  of  Lords  censured  ^Iv.  CJladstone,  but  the 
country  sustained  him  in  this  honest  endeavor  to  make 
the  army  of  England  efficient. 

^Ir.  Gladstone  and  his  party  were  blamed  because  they 
accepted  the  results  of  the  Arbitration  Tribunal  at 
Geneva,  and  paid  to  America  o/er  three  million  pounds 
for  the  Ahd)ama  depredations.  They  were  called  the 
"  peace  at  any  price  "  party,  and  accused  of  "  disgracing 
the  British  Hag.''  It  would  seem  at  this  day,  when  pride 
and  passion  have  cooled,  that  both  nations  must  honor 
the  man  who  helped  to  avert  war  between  England  and 
America. 

"  Both,"  says  Dr.  J.  L.  M.  Curry,  in  his  study  of 
Gladstone  published  in  1891,  '•  speak  our  noble  English 
tongue  in  its  freedom,  its  dignity,  it^  massive  simpli- 
city, and  have  the  richest,  purest,  most  varied  liter^iture 
the  world  is  blessed  with ;  .  .  .  both  are  guardians  of 
trial  by  jury,  and  of  an.  unmolested  home;  both  have 
the  common  law,  an  independent  judiciary,  universal 
education,  equality  of  eitizeiic^hip  before  t,he  law,  an  un- 
chained English  Bible;  botli  are  asylu d  .  for  the  op- 
pressed, refuges  for  the  weary  ;  .  .  „  botlj  whiten  every 
sea  with  their  flags,  are  daring,  enterprising,  adventur- 
ous;  both  have  carried  Christianity  to  the  uttermost 
ends  of  the  earth." 

Gladstone  has  always  been  a  lover  of  peace  rather 
than  war.  When  alarmists  have  talked  about  increase 
of  armies,  and  the  fear  of  loss  of  power,  he  lias  said: 


f 


if  r 

I??;!     I 
■U  ■      ■; 


■:l 


I 


H 


l>l         ,!     !' 


440 


irili/.lA'  £:\VAliT  GLAbSTONE. 


"  Tlie  power  of  this  country  is  not  declining.  ...  It  is 
only  our  pride,  it  is  only  our  passions,  it  is  only  our 
follies,  which  can  ever  constitute  a  real  danger  to  us. 
If  we  can  master  these,  no  other  foe  can  hurt  us ;  and 
many  a  long  year  will  make  its  round,  and  many  a  gen- 
eration of  men  will  be  gathered  to  its  fathers,  before 
the  country  in  which  we  are  born,  and  which  we  deeply 
love,  need  forfeit  or  lose  its  place  among  the  nations  of 
the  world." 

Disraeli  was  constantly  using  all  his  power  of  invec- 
tive and  satire  against  the  Liberal  Government.  "  Un- 
der his  influence  and  at  his  instance,"  said  Disraeli  of 
Gladstone,  "  we  have  legalized  confiscation,  consecratcil 
sacrilege,  and  condonr  d  high  treason  ;  we  have  destroyed 
churches,  we  have  shaken  propeity  to  its  foundation,  and 
have  emptied  jails." 

Gladstone,  in  1873,  introduced  his  Irish  University 
Bill,  and  was  defeated.  Disraeli  became  Prime  ]\[inistor 
in  1874,  and  in  the  following  year  Gladstone  resigned 
his  position  as  leader  of  the  Liberal  party.  He  had 
been  in  public  life  forty -two  years,  and  was  glad  to  vary 
his  labors  for  a  time  by  literary  pursu'ts. 

In  1874  he  wrote  an  article  on  "Kitualism,"  in  the 
October  number  of  the  Contemiiornry  lieolcti',  wliieli 
occasioned  much  adverse  comment.  This  was  followed 
within  a  month  by  his  pam[)hlet  on  "Tlie  Vatican  De- 
crees in  their  Bearing  on  Civil  Allegiance  :  a  Political 
Expostulation." 

His  propositions  were  :  "  1.  That  Home  has  substituted 
for  the  proud  boast  of  semper  eudem  a  policy  of  violence 
and  change  in  faith.  2.  That  slie  has  refurbished  and 
paraded  anew  every  rusty  lool  she  was  f>)ndly  thought 
to  have  disused.     .3.  Tliat  mi  one  can  now  become  her 


1) 


I 


i    '' 


IVILLIAM  EWART  GLADSTONE. 


441 


convert  without  renouncing  his  moral  and  mental  free- 
dom, and  placing  his  civil  loyalty  and  duty  at  the  mercy 
of  another.  4.  That  Kome  has  equally  repudiated  mod- 
ern thought  and  ancient  history." 

He  showed  the  effects  of  the  doctrine  of  Papal  infalli- 
bility, and  its  danger  to  the  State. 

The  pamphlet  on  ''  The  Vatican  Decrees  "  attained  in 
a  few  weeks  the  enormous  circulation  of  one  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  co})ies.  Ile[)lies  came  from  every 
source,  —  from  Cardinal  Xewman,  Cardinal  ^Manning, 
Monsignor  Capel,  and  scores  of  others  high  in  authority. 
The  Italian  journals  expressed  their  astonisliment,  and 
hoped  that  ]Mr.  Gladstone  would  eventually  come  into 
the  "true  Church." 

Three  months  after  this  j\[r.  Gladstone  wrote  a  second 
pamphlet,  entitled  "Vaticanism  :  an  Answer  to  lleproofs 
and  Replies ; "  also  a  criticism  on  the  speeches  of  Pope 
Pius  IX.,  in  the  Quarterbj  Review  for  January,  1875. 

1876  found  Europe  agitated  over  the  old  subject  of 
Turkish  oppression  and  the  revolt  of  her  embittered 
subjects.  The  Herzegovinians  had  gained  a  victory 
over  the  Turks,  but  the  Bulgarian  villages  had  been 
literally  wiped  out  by  the  cruel  Bashi-Bazouks.  Sixty 
villages  had  been  destroyed,  while  thousands  of  innocent 
men,  women,  and  children  had  been  massacred.  At 
I)()tak,  where  twelve  liundred  persons  took  refuge  in  a 
church,  the  Ijashi-I)azouks  tore  off  the  tiles  from  the 
roof,  and  threw  burning  pieces  of  wood  and  rags  dijiped 
in  petroleum  upon  tlic  crowded  mass  of  human  l)eings. 
At  last  the  doors  were  forced  o[)en,  and  the  inside  of  the 
church  burnt.  Hardly  a  person  escaped.  The  Turkish 
leader  for  this  brutality  rcccMved  the  Order  of  jMedjidie. 
The  government  of  Disrai'li   w;is  doing  nothing  to  save 


m 


!    : 


i',     } 


ih  i 


hs'.u 


I 


442 


WILLIAM  EWAIiT  GLADSTONE. 


tlie  Christian  provinces,  but  va.'nly  hoped  that  Mohamme- 
dan Turkey  would  reform.  "Wiiei?  iver  England  thought 
of  coercing  Turkey,  the  "  Eussian  spectre  "  appeared  on 
the  horizon,  and  the  "  balance  of  power  "  stifled  the  sym- 
pathy for  the  oppressed. 

Gladstone  foigot  his  Homer  and  the  Vatican  decrees  in 
his  indignation  at  the  deeds  of  the  Turks.  lie  pub- 
lished a  pamphlet  entitled  "  Bulgarian  Horrors  and  the 
Question  of  the  East."  He  urged  self-government  for 
the  Christian  provinces.  He  would  say  to  the  Turks, 
"You  shall  receive  a  reasonable  tribute  ;  you  shall  retain 
your  titular  sovereignty ;  your  empire  shall  not  bo  in- 
vaded ;  but  never  again  while  the  years  roll  their  course, 
so  far  as  it  is  in  our  power  to  determine,  never  again 
shall  the  hand  of  violence  be  raised  by  you ;  never 
again  shall  the  dire  refinements  of  cruelty  be  devised 
by  you  for  the  sake  of  making  mankind  miserable  in 
Bulgaria." 

He  urged  that  Russia  and  England  should  act  in  con- 
cord. "Their  power  is  immense,"  he  said.  "The  power 
of  Russia  by  land  for  acting  upon  these  countries  as 
against  Turkey  is  perfectly  resistless ;  the  power  of  Eng- 
land by  sea  is  S(*arcely  less  important  at  this  moment." 

Gladstone  s|)oke  at  great  meetings  in  various  parts  of 
England  and  in  the  House  of  Commons. 

Russia  finally  declared  war  against  Turkey,  and  de- 
feated the  latter  at  Kars  and  Plevna. 

Peace  and  the  self-government  of  the  Christian  prov- 
inces was  finally  secured  by  tlie  T   .:aty  of  Berlin  in  1S7.S. 

The  next  year,  in  the  autumn  of  1<S7*.),  iVIr.  C-hidstone, 
at  the  invitation  of  the  Liberal  electors,  decided  to  con- 
test the  metropolitan  county  of  Scotland,  ^Midlothian, 
which  had  long  been  r('[)res(Mitod  in  Parliament  by  the 


. 


WILLIAM  EWAllT  f^LADSTOXi:. 


443 


Biuicleuch  family;  Lord  Dalkeith,  tlu' son  of  tlio  great 
Duke  of  Buccleuch,  being  then  in  power. 

The  canvass  was  one  of  the  most  memorable  in  the 
history  of  English  politics.  On  his  way  to  Scotland  from 
Hawarden,  ^Iv.  Gladstone  received  a  perfect  ovati()n. 
Tliousands  were  gathered  at  every  station.  He  sjtoke 
every  day  and  every  evening  to  vast  audiences,  uhv\i 
numbering  more  than  twenty  thousand  persons. 

Mr.  George  W.  Smalley,  in  his  "  London  Letters," 
gives  a  graphic  description  of  Gladstone's  arrival  in 
Edinburgh  :  "  The  train  reached  Edinburgh  at  twenty 
minutes  past  five.  It  was  quite  dark.  The  Waverley 
Station  is  nothing  more  than  the  prolongation  of  a 
tunnel.  .  .  .  Tlie  public  had  been  excluded,  and  only 
a  favored  few  —  saj  five  or  six  thousand  —  admitted  by 
ticket.  .  .  .  The  people  collected  about  the  station  and 
along  the  streets  through  which  Mr.  Gladstone  was  to 
drive,  by  tens  of  thousands. 

"  Lord  Rosebery's  carriage  and  four,  with  two  out- 
riders and  a  small  army  of  liveried  footmen,"  were  wait- 
ing to  take  Mr.  Gladstone  to  Dalmeny  Tark,  Lord 
llosebery's  residence,  five  miles  distant.  For  the  whole 
length  of  that  magnificent  street,  Gladstone  stood  bare- 
headed and  bowed  his  acknowledgments. 

Everywhere  the  streets  were  arched  with  flowers,  and 
flags  were  waving.  Everywhere  the  man  of  seventy 
years  spoke  with  all  the  fire  and  fervor  of  youth. 

At  Waverley  ]\rarket  twenty  thousand  persons  were 
gathered.  They  had  waited  for  three  hours  while  i\Ir„ 
Gladstone  was  speaking  in  the  Exchange,  "At  every 
movement  in  one  direction  or  another,"  savs  ^NFr. 
Smalley.,  "one  of  those  currents  which  begin  no  one 
knows  how,  which  are  like  the  movement  of  a  tide,  and 


■1^1 


i'    .  3111 


I 


444 


WILLIAM  EWART  GLADSTONE. 


just  as  irresistible,  passed  tliroiigli  and  along  tlio  hall. 
]\[en  went  down  under  the  pressure,  and  were  picked  up 
breathless.  At  every  moment  somebody  with  a  white 
face  and  rigid  body  was  lianded  over  the  heads  of  his 
comrades,  and  deposited  in  some  protected  enclosure. 
Water  was  eagerly  called  for.  Men  who  liad  not  sul- 
lered  from  the  movement  fainted  from  the  heat  and 
long  fatigue." 

Wlien  ]\[r.  Gladstone  appeared,  "pain  and  weariness 
were  forgotten  in  the  joy  of  tlie  people  at  the  siglit  of 
their  hero.  It  is  useless  to  attempt  to  describe  the  ex- 
plosion of  delight  with  which  he  was  greeted.  It  was 
a  prolonged,  hoarse  cry,  taken  up  again  and  again,  im- 
mense vibrations  of  sound  sweeping  thvough  the  air, 
broken,  inarticulate,  but  full  of  eloquence.  ...  It  was 
oidy  when  Mr.  Gladstone  rose,  and  had  stood  silent 
for  some  minutes,  that  silence  fell  upon  tlie  :nultitmh\ 
The  iirst  note  of  that  marvellous  voice  rose  like  the  peal 
of  an  organ." 

During  tliis  visit  to  Scotland,  ]\[r.  Gladstone  was 
chosen  Lord  Rector  of  Glasgow  University.  To  the 
students  he  said  in  his  address,  after  urging  them  to  a 
deeper  study  of  Christianity:  "Be  assured  tliat  every 
one  of  you,  witliout  exception,  has  his  place  and  voca- 
tion on  this  earth,  and  that  it  rests  with  hiniself  to  find 
it.  Do  not  believe  those  wlio,  too  lightly,  say  th;it  notli- 
inv'-  succeeds  like  success ;  effort,  gentlcMueu,  honest, 
manful,  humble  effort,  succeeds  by  its  reflected  action 
npon  character,  especially  in  youth,  better  tlian  success. 
Success,  indeed,  too  easily  and  too  early  gained,  nut 
seldom  serves,  like  winning  tlie  first  throw  of  the  dice, 
to  blind  and  stupefy. 

"Get  knowledge,  ;ill  you  can.  .  .  . 


1 


hall, 
ed  lip 
white 
of  his 

OSlll'C. 

t  sui- 
it  and 


i    I 


\ 


WIL LI. I  M   K W'A  /.' T  C L A  />.S TOXK. 


445 


"llio  thorough  in  ;dl  you  do,  nnd  remember  that, 
though  ignorance  often  may  be  imuxjent,  pretension  is 
always  despicable.  (^)uit  you  lik(3  men,  b(!  strong,  and 
the  exercise  of  your  strength  to-day  will  give  you 
strength  to-morrow.  Work  onwards  and  work  up- 
wards." 

Mr.  Gladstone  was  elected  for  Midlothian,  and  his 
son  Herbert  for  Leeds,  in  the  general  election  of  18S(). 
The  Liberals  were  trium})hant.  At  on(.*e  JJeaconslield 
resigned,  and  Gladstone  became  Prime  Minister. 

His  lirst  efforts  were  directed  towards  improving  the 
condition  of  Ireland.  After  the  Land  Bill  of  1870 
was  passed,  famines  were  frefpient,  and  the  distress 
among  the  peasants  was  overwhelming.  V>y  the  bill, 
only  those  evicted  tenants  who  had  paid  rent  were  en-* 
titled  to  compensation  hn-  their  improvements.  The 
majority  could  not  pay  re  t.  and  were  therefore  turned 
out  of  their  homes.  In  SO  over  two  thousand  fami- 
lies were  evicted ;  in  18N  aid  also  in  1882  the  number 
of  evictions  was  much  u     .iter. 

Mr.  T.  P.  O'Connor.  M.P.,  in  his  "Parnell  Move- 
ment," gives  an  interesting  case  of  eviction;  that  of 
Michael  jNIcGrath.  [\  <-  man  had  held  for  years  a  farm 
at  a  rent  of  forty-eight  pounds,  which  had  been  raiscil 
to  one  hundred  and  five  pounds.  He  was  evicted,  and 
his  house,  built  by  himself  or  his  father,  was  occupied 
by  another  farmer,  Cornelius  ^NLmgan.  But  the  eviction 
was  not  effected  without  a  struggle. 

Each  day  as  the  ev:  -uing  i)arty  came  to  the  house, 
^[cGrath  and  his  family  poured  boiling  water  upon 
them.  The  family  were  watidied  so  closely  that  they 
were  iimxUy  obliged  to  surrender  for  lack  of  food  and 
water. 


Hi 


446 


WILLIAM  EWAIiT  GLADSTONE. 


After  being  turned  out,  jVIcGnitli,  went  back  to  liis 
farm,  and  was  sent  to  prison.  Then  his  wife  went  back, 
and  his  sister  and  others  of  the  family,  and  each  in  turn 
was  arrested. 

At  last  he  got  a  boat,  turned  it  upside  down,  and  lived 
under  it  with  his  family,  till,  through  exposure  to  the 
weather,  he  died  of  typhus  fever.  His  neighbors  then 
builo  a  small  house  for  his  widow  and  her  children. 

As  a  result  of  these  evictions  the  feeling  against  the 
landlords  was  liostile  in  the  extreme.  IMurders  wen; 
committed,  cattle  were  mutilated,  people  starved  and 
died  along  the  roadside. 

In  October,  1871);  the  IrislL^vatimial  Land  League  had 
been  formed,  one  of  the  prime  mo/ers  being  Mr. 
Michael  Davitt,  the  son  of  an  evicted  tenant.  He  had 
been  turned  out  of  his  home  when  four  years  of  age, 
and  his  father  and  mother  had  to  b(\g  through  the  streets 
of  England  for  bread.  He  lost  his  riglit  arm  in  a  mill, 
Avas  engaged  in  the  Fenian  movement,  and  was  sen- 
tenced to  fifteen  years  penal  servitude.  After  nearly 
eight  years,  he  was  released,  visited  America,  and  re- 
turned to  Ireland  to  help  his  people  in  their  poverty 
and  burden  of  rent. 

Another  who  helped  to  start  tlie  new  organization  was 
Charles  Stewart  Parnell,  desceiided  from  Sir  John 
I'arnell,  a  leader  in  the  Irish  House  of  Commons,  on  his 
father's  side,  and  the  grandson  on  his  mother's  side 
of  Commodore  Charles  Stewait.  commander  of  the  slii[) 
"Constitution,"  in  the  war  of  1S12.  Educated  at  Cam- 
bridge University,  as  his  fatlier  had  been,  and  iidierit- 
ing  from  his  American  mother,  as  well  as  from  his  Irish 
father,  a  love  of  liberty  and  of  justice,  he  early  enters  d 
rarliament,  and  became  an  ardent  worker  for  Ireland. 


I 


back, 


t)f  age, 


WILLIAM  IJWAliT  GLADSTONE. 


44: 


The  objects  oj  the  Land  League  were  to  bring  about 
a  reduction  of  rack-rents,  and  to  aid  the  occupiers  to 
obtain  ownership  of  the  soih  iNIr.  rarnell  was  nuuh^ 
president  of  this  Ler.gue.  lie  went  to  America  and 
raised  seventy-two  thousand  pounds  for  the  relief  of 
those  suffering  in  Irehmd  on  account  of  famine,  and  to 
l)ush  forward  the  Land  League  organization. 

More  tlian  ever  embittered  by  the  indifference  and 
opposition  of  the  House  of  Lords,  who  rejected,  in 
1880,  a  bill  for  com])'  p'^ition  to  tenants  evicted  for  non- 
payment of  rent,  .It'.  L;ind  Leaguers  made  earnest 
speeches  through  Ireland,  .advising  the  tenants  not  to 
pay  rent,  and  passively  to  resist  eviction.  A  man  who 
took  a  farm  from  which  his  neighbor  had  been  evicted, 
was  "  boycotted." 

"When  a  man  takes  a  farm  fi-om  which  another  has 
been  unjustly  evicted,"  said  ]Mr.  Paniell,  to  an  audience 
at  Ennis,  "you  must  show  him  on  the  roadside  when 
you  meet  him,  you  must  show  him  in  the  streets  of  the 
town,  you  must  show  him  in  the  shop,  you  must  show 
him  in  the,  fair-green  and  in  the  market-})laiee,  and  even 
in  the  plac-e  of  worship,  by  leaving  him  alone,  by  put- 
ting him  into  a  moral  Coventr}',  b}'  isolating  him  from 
the  rest  of  liis  country,  as  if  Ik:-  were  tlu>  leper  of  old, 
—  you  must  show  him  your  detestation  of  the  crime  he 
has  committed." 

The  outrages  in  Ireland  increased.  It  was  thought 
by  the  Government  that  the  League  was  creating  dis- 
turbance rather  than  i)reventing  it,  and  sevci-al  leaders, 
among  them  Mr.  Parnell,  were  arrested,  but  afterwards 
released. 

Through  the  winter  of  1880,  the  time  of  Parliament 
was  almost  completely  absorbed  by  the  Irish  question. 


il; 


^-1 


if!  ii 


448 


WILLIAM  EWAllT  GLADSTONE. 


Parnell  and  his  followers  had  obstructed  legislatiun. 
They  no  longer  acted  with  the  Liberals  only,  but  wiih 
either  party  which  seemed  likely  to  give  full  and  com- 
plete justice  to  Ireland. 

April  1,  1881,  Gladstone  introduced  his  second  Land 
Bill  in  an  eloquent  address  on  what  he  rightly  calltd 
"the  most  difficult  and  the  most  complex  question"  of 
liis  life.  "It  is  said  that  we  have  failed  in  Ireland.  I 
do  not  admit  failure,"  said  ]\Ir.  Gladstone.  "  I  admit 
success  to  be  incomplete.  I  am  asked  how  it  is  to  bo 
made  complete.  I  say,  by  patient  persistence  in  well- 
doing, by  steady  adherence  to  the  work  of  justice.  .  .  . 
It  has  been  said  that  love  is  stronger  than  death,  and  so 
justice  is  stronger  than  popular  excitem.ent,  than  the 
passion  of  the  moment,  than  even  the  grudges  and  re- 
sentments and  sad  traditions  of  the  past.  Walking  in 
that  path,  we  cannot  err.  Guided  by  that  light,  that 
divine  light,  we  are  safe." 

The  principal  provisions  of  the  Land  P)ill  were  thiy 
three  F's :  fair  rent,  fixity  of  tenure,  and  free  sale. 
Any  tenant  may  sell  his  holding  to  the  best  bidder  j 
every  present  tenant  may  apply  to  a  court  to  fix  a  judi- 
cial rent,  which  cannot  be  altered  fcr  fifteen  years  : 
money  may  be  advanced  to  tenants  to  enable  them  t 
purchase  their  holdings,  or  to  emigrate. 

The  Conservatives  vigorously  o})posed  the  bill,  (jver 
a  thousand  amendments  were  offered.  It  went  to  tlie 
Lords,  and  was  attacked  with  great  vehemence  by  the 
^Maripds  of  Salisbury  and  the  Duke  of  Argyle.  It  was 
returned  to  the  Commons,  who  would  not  accept  the 
amendments.  Again  it  was  sent  to  the  Lords,  and 
again  it  was  sent  back  with  objectionable  amendments. 
The   country    was  becoming  iidlamed.     Great  meetings 


WILLIAM  F'n'ART  GLADSTONE. 


449 


fi-slatinii. 

|l>Ut  Willi 

land  com- 

|nd  L;ni(l 
■y  called 
Itioii  "  of 
laud.     I 
I  admit 
is   to  be 
in  well- 
iee.  .  .  . 
li,  and  so 
tliau  tlio 
and  I'Q' 
liking  ill 
^dit,   that 

were  tli(7 
reo  sal(>. 
bidder; 
X  a  judi- 
II  years  : 
them   I 

1.  (jvei- 
t  to  the 
i  by  the 
It  was 
jept  the 
ds,  and 
dmeiii.s, 
leetings 


were  held,  urging  the  Liberals  to  stand  fearless  to  the 
end.  The  Lords  finally  relented,  and  the  Land  Bill 
received  the  royal  assent  in  August,  188L 

In  1882  ]\rr.  Gladstone  had  to  deal  with  the  Egyptian 
crisis.  Mr.  Bright  resigned  from  the  cabinet  because 
opposed  to  a  war,  which  to  the  majority  of  the  ministry 
seemed  a  necessity  for  the  continued  control  of  Egypt,  so 
largely  the  pecuniary  debtor  of  England.  Unfortunately, 
to  restore  order  to  Egypt  meant  to  restore  order  also  to 
the  Soudan,  which  had  been  conquered  by  Egypt  years 
before.  In  1870  Sir  Samuel  Baker  ruled  the  equatodal 
projin^es  for^ Egypt,  as  governor.  In  1874  a  man  now 
known  and  lamented  the  world  over,  Colonel  Charles 
George  Gordon,  was  appointed  to  succeed  him.  He  was 
of  Scotch  descent,  well  educated,  and  belonged  to  a  race 
of  soldiers.  He  had  served  in  the  Crimean  War ;  had 
helped  the  Chinese  to  overthrow  the  great  Tai-Ping 
rebellion,  for  which  he  refused  to  receive  rewards ;  had 
returned  to  England  to  labor  as  Commanding  Royal 
Engineer  on  the  Thames  defences :  and  had  wrought 
wonders  in  his  efforts  against  the  slave  trade  in  the 
Soudan. 

While  at  Gravesend  in  constructing  the  Thames  de- 
fences, his  house  was  a  hospital,  school,  and  almshouse, 
in  turn.  He  established  evening  classes  for  the  boys 
who  worked  on  the  river  or  the  sea,  and  called  them  his 
"  kings."  He  stuck  pins  into  a  map  of  the  world  hung 
over  his  mantel,  which  showed  the  course  of  the  voyage 
of  each  lad  for  whom  he  liad  obtained  a  situation  on 
shipboard.  For  each  he  prayed  daily,  moving  the  pins 
from  place  to  place  as  the  lads  travelled. 

Plis  large  garden  was  open  to  the  poor,  to  plant  what 
they  chose  and  take  the  i)roducts.     He  cared  little  for 


('i' 


hi 


Ill 


450 


WILLIAM  EWAItT  GLADSTONE. 


his  food,  a  dry  crust  and  tea  being  his  usual  meal.     ir<' 
was,  like  Shaftesbury,  the  idol  of   the     .igged  schools 
whose  favorite  benediction,  chalked  on  the  fences,  was 
"  God  bless  the  Kernel." 

Wlien  offered  ten  thousand  pounds  a  year  by  the 
Khedive,  as  the  proper  amount  for  so  high  a  position  as 
that  of  governor  in  the  Soudan,  he  would  accept  but 
two  thousand.  He  bought  slaves  from  the  dealers,  and 
sent  them  home  or  provided  for  them.  They  were  so 
grateful  to  work  for  him,  or  to  be  near  him,  that  tlioy 
would  strive  to  touch  his  hand  or  the  hem  of  his  clotlii's. 

After  his  return  to  England,  having  been  some  time 
in  India,  it  seemed  best  that  he  should  be  sent  again  to 
the  Soudanese.  They  had  rebelled  against  their  task- 
masters, the  Egyptians.  Taxes  were  excessive,  and 
collected  by  Bashi-Bazouks  ;  many  in  power  were  protli- 
gate,  and  ruled  harshly  ;  famine  was  frequent. 

The  Khedive  looked  eagerly  to  England  for  aid  to 
subjugate  his  rebellious  people.  IMeantime  a  deliverer 
had  arisen  in  Soudan,  Mahomet  Achniet,  the  son  of  a 
carpenter,  who  proclaimed  himself  the  ^Mahdi,  the  long- 
expected  prophet.  He  had  amassed  wealth  through  his 
followers  and  by  means  of  several  rich  wives.  Those 
persons  who  could  not  be  won  to  his  cause  by  per^vaa- 
sion  were  won  by  the  sword.  He  fought  battles  and 
annihilated  several  Egyptian  armies. 

Gladstone  and  the  Liberals  felt  that  they  had  been 
forced  into  the  Egyptian  war,  as  a,  matter  begun  by  a 
previous  ministry,  and  determined  not  to  waste  more 
blood  and  treasure  in  the  East. 

Gladstone  had  s;iid  in  the  Nineteenth  Century  for 
August,  1877,  in  opposing  '•'  Aggression  in  Egypt :  "  -It 
is  the  fewness  of  our  men.     Ample   in  numbers  to  d*- 


:;)< 


WILLIAM  EWAliT  ULADsloM-:. 


4ol 


eal.     Tie 

schools, 

[ices,  was 

r  by  the 
)sition  as 
;cept  but 
ilers,  and 
were  so 
;hat  they 
s  clothes. 
m\(i  time 
:  again  to 
leir  task- 
3ive,  and 
3re  protli- 

or  aid  to 
deliverer 
son  of  a 
the  long- 
rough  his 
s.     Those 
)y  persua- 
ittles  and 

had  been 
3gun  by  a 
iste   more 

mtury  for 
pt:"  '-It 
icrs  to  do- 


fend  our  island-home,  they  are,  with  reference  to  tht5 
boundless  calls  of  our  world-wide  dominion,  but  as  a 
few  grains  of  sand  scattered  thinly  on  a  floor. 

''It  will  still  remain  in  effort  beyond  and  almost 
against  nature,  for  some  thirty  or  thirty-tive  millions  of 
men  to  bear  in  chief  the  burden  of  defending  the  coun- 
tries inhabited  by  near  three  hundred  millions.  We 
mu.  t  not  Hindi  in  the  performance  of  our  duty  to  those 
countries.  ]»ut  neither  let  us,  by  puerile  expedients,  try 
to  hide  from  ourselves  what  it  involves.  To  divest  our- 
selves of  territory  once  acquired  is  very  difficult.  .  .  . 
If  then,  we  commit  an  error  in  adding  to  territory,  it  is 
an  error  impossible  or  difficult  to  cure." 

The  Egyptian  government  had  been  urged  by  England 
to  evacuate  the  Soudan,  but  this  they  were  unwilling 
to  do.  The  former  sent  General  Hicks,  an  English 
officer  on  the  Khedive's  staff,  with  seven  thousand  men, 
against  the  Mahdi,  who  liad  three  hundred  thousand. 
General  Hicks  and  his  forces  were  cut  to  pieces  as  the 
other  armies  had  been. 

Many  Englishmen  thought  the  prestige  of  their  coun- 
try was  being  weakened  through  its  indifference  or  fail- 
ure in  Egypt.  Some  clamored  for  war.  At  last  the 
press  said,  "  Send  General  Gordon.  He  can  make  peace 
in  the  Soudan." 

Gordon  did  not  favor  the  removal  of  29,000  Egyptian 
soldiers  from  the  Soudan,  thus  leaving  the  Mahdi  to  con- 
trol the  vast  country  of  40,000,000  people.  ]>ut  he  acqui- 
esced, and  started  on  his  mission,  in  the  words  of  Mr. 
Gladstone,  "for  the  double  purpose  of  evacuating  the 
country  by  the  extinction  of  the  Egyptian  garrisons,  and 
of  reconstituting  it  by  giving  back  to  the  Sultans  their 
ancestral  powers,  as  I  may  so  call  them,  which  had  been 


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WILLIAM  EWAIir  GLADSTONE. 


Vi- 


>       i! 


:■! 


withdrawn  or  suspended  during  the  period  of  Egyptian 
occupation." 

Gordon  left  Enghand,  and  })ractically  alone,  went  into 
the  desert  country  to  bring  order  out  of  chaos.  When  he 
reached  Khartoum,  February  18,  1884,  the  people  hailed 
him  as  the  saviour  of  Kordofan.  He  at  once  Imrned  the 
Egyptian  books  which  recorded  the  burdensome  taxes. 
and  also  the  whips  and  other  instruments  of  torture. 
He  released  prisoners,  some  of  whom  had  been  coniined 
for  fifteen  years.  He  permitted  the  holding  of  slaves,  as 
he  did  not  feel  willing  to  impoverish  the  masters  unless 
he  had  the  money  to  comi)ensate  them. 

He  offered  to  make  the  Mahdi  Sultan  of  Kordofan,  but 
the  offer  was  indignantly  refused  by  the  man  who  ho^jed 
to  convert  the  whole  country  to  his  own  belief.  "  1  am 
the  Mahdi.  Will  you  become  a  IMussulman  ?  "  was  the 
message  returned  to  Gordon. 

Baker  Pasha  liad  been  sent  by  tlie  Khedive  to  liberate 
the  garrisons  at  Tokha.  He  had  failed  utterly,  the  Arabs 
spearing  his  men  without  mercy.  After  defeating  his 
army  they  rushed  upon  the  garrison  at  Tokha  and  mas- 
sacred the  600. 

England  became  alarmed  over  this  and  other  defeats. 
Gordon  was  evidently  in  danger.  He  had  had  several 
skirmishes  with  the  troops  of  the  Mahdi.  He  had  bei^uu 
to  fortify  the  town  of  Khartoum,  10,000  men  who  sym- 
pathized with  the  jSIahdi  being  allowed  to  go  outside  the 
walls  and  join  the  enemy.  At  last,  seeing  that  force 
alone  could  bring  the  INIahdi  to  terms.  General  Gordon 
urged  England  to  send  troops. 

The  Government  was  divided.  Gladstone  had  desired 
peace,  saying  tliat  the  Soudanese  were  "a  pe()])le  rightly 
struggling  to   be  free,"  and  wished  Gordon  to  retire  if 


I 


WILLIAM  E]VAltT  GLADSTONE. 


4o3 


I^gypti;iii 

went  into 
When  he 
aple  haih'il 
burned  the 
onie  taxes, 
of  torture. 
en  coniuu'd 
)f  shives,  as 
sters  unless 

)rdofan,  but 

who  hoped 

ef.     "I  am 

?  "  was  the 

3  to  liberate 
y,  the  Arabs 
.^I'eating  his 
la  and  nias- 

iher  defeats, 
had  several 
e  had  bej^uii 
n  who  syui- 
I  outside  the 
I  that  force 
eral  Gordon 

had  desired 

!ople  riijfhtly 

to  retire  if 


', 


the  Egyptian  garrisons  could  not  be  liberated.  Gordon 
felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  remain  with  those  who  had 
trusted  him,  and  whom  he  had  promised  to  assist. 

All  summer  the  heroic  man  stood  at  his  post  of  danger. 
The  press  and  people  of  England  grew  to  white  heat  in 
their  excitement  over  Gordon.  Finally  in  August,  Glad- 
stone moved  a  vote  of  credit  for  £300,000,  "  to  enable 
her  jNFajesty  to  undertake  operations  for  the  relief  of 
General  Gordon,  should  it  become  necessary."  l*rep- 
arations  were  at  once  made.  Eight  hundred  light  boats 
were  construced  to  stem  the  rapids  on  the  Nile. 

Sir  Garnet  Wolseley  was  put  in  charge  of  the  expedi- 
tion. He  hastened  to  the  Soudan.  To  reach  Khartoum 
with  his  army  was  a  toilsome  journey.  In  December  he 
encouraged  his  men  by  the  words  :  "The  physical  objects 
which  impede  rapid  progress  are  considerable  ;  but  who 
cares  for  them  when  we  remember  General  Gordon  and 
his  garrison  are  in  danger  ?  Under  God,  their  safety  is 
now  in  your  hands.  Come  what  may,  we  must  save 
them.'' 

Meantime  hunger  and  treachery  in  Khartoum  were 
doing  their  work.  On  November  4,  the  Mahdi  had  called 
upon  Gordon  to  surrender. 

"  Not  for  ten  years,"  was  the  reply  of  the  brave  man. 

The  troops  of  Sir  Herbert  Stewart  were  crossing  the 
desert,  and  had  defeated  the  Arabs  at  Abu  Klea  Wells, 
January  14,  1885;  though  with  great  loss  of  Britisli 
officers. 

Gordon  would  soon  be  rescued.  On  January  24  the 
English  troops  were  only  thirty-six  hours  from  Khar- 
toum. They  pushed  on,  and  when  within  800  yards  of 
the  walls,  they  saw  thousands  of  Arabs  wildly  waving 
flags,  while  a  storm  of  shot  was  poured  upon  them. 


454 


WILLIAM  E\rAllT  GLADSTONE, 


!'  I 


v< ' 

hi 


<    !!»! 


I     ■!  M^ 


V.\ 


h 


Khartoum,  after  a  siege  of  seven  months,  had  fallen 
almost  in  the  hour  of  her  deliverance.    Gordon  had  been 
killed  on  the  threshold  of  the  Government  House,  and 
men,  women,  and  children  had  been  massacred. 

"  Children  were  spitted  on  the  Arab  spears  in  pure 
wantonness,"  and  "  for  an  entire  day  the  streets  of  tlio 
city  ran  with  blood." 

The  gates  of  Khartoum  had  been  opened  by  a  traitor, 
who  once  had  been  under  sentence  of  death  for  treason, 
but  had  been  pardoned  and  reinstated  in  command  by 
General  Gordon. 

The  ^tahdi  died  of  small-pox  at  Omderman,  near  Khar- 
toum, in  June  of  the  same  year,  1885,  and  a  handsome 
tomb  marks  the  j)lace  of  his  burial. 

The  British  troops  departed  from  the  Soudan,  and  for 
a  time,  at  least,  the  Egyptian  question  was  left  to  settle 
itself. 

In  1884,  December  G,  Gladstone's  Franchise  Bill  was 
passed,  extending  the  franchise  to  2,000,000  new  voters, 
chiefly  of  the  artisan  class.  The  measure  received  the 
usual  opposition  from  Conservatives.  Mr.  Chamberlain, 
the  Liberal,  declared  the  bill  to  be  "  the  greatest  consti- 
tutional reform  since  the  Revolution  of  1G88." 

The  Liberal  Government  under  Gladstone  was  suc- 
ceeded by  the  Conservative  in  1885,  but  the  Liberals 
came  to  power  the  following  year,  1880. 

The  Irish  question  seemed  as  f;ir  from  settlement  as 
ever.  The  Home  Rule  movement  had  been  started  in 
Ireland  in  1870,  sixteen  years  before.  Its  avowed  object 
was  "  to  obtain  for  Ireland  the  right  of  self-government 
by  means  of  a  National  Rarlianient,"  "composed  of  Her 
Majesty  the  Sovereign,  and  her  successors,  and  the  Lords 
and  Commons  of  Ireland  ;  to  secure  for  that  Parliament, 


S  ■"  fl  r 


ad  fallen, 
liad  been 
ouse,  and 

s  in  pnre 
?ts  of  tlie 

a  traitor, 
r  treason, 
imand  by 

ear  Kliar- 
landsome 

1,  and  for 
to  settle 

Bill  was 

w  voters, 
?ived  the 
mberlain, 
st  consti- 

was  suc- 
Liberals 

pment  as 
tar  ted  in 
ed  object 
/^erninent 
d  of  Her 
he  Lords 
t'lianient, 


WILLIAM  EWART  GLADSTONE. 


455 


1    » 
! 


under  a  federal  arrangement,  the  rights  of  legislating 
for  and  regulating  all  matters  relating  to  the  internal 
affairs  of  Ireland,  and  control  over  Irish  resources  and 
revenues,  subject  to  the  obligation  of  contributing  our 
just  proportion  of  the  Imperial  expenditure." 

IMembers  began  to  be  elected  from  Ireland  on  the  Home 
Rule  platform.  The  stronger  the  party  in  Ireland,  the 
sttonger  grew  the  opposition  in  Englaiul,  lest  the  sepa- 
ration of  the  Union  should  follow.  The  more  the  Irish 
argued  and  labored  for  self-government,  the  more  they 
rebelled  against  the  Coercion  Acts  of  England,  which 
each  new  Chief  Secretary  seemed  to  think  a  necessity  to 
preserve  order.     But  order  was  not  thereby  obtained. 

Mr.  Gladstone,  one  of  the  truest  friends  Ireland  has 
ever  had,  felt  that  peace  could  only  come  to  that  dis- 
tracted country  through  self-government.  When  it  was 
announced  that  he  would  bring  in  a  Home  Rule  Bill  for 
Ireln.n(l.,__Aj2i;il  ^,  LSSfi,  the  excitement  was  intense. 

On  that  day  some  of  the  Irish  members  arrived  at  the 
House  of  Commons  at  half-past  five  in  the  morning, 
breakfasting,  lunching,  and  dining  there.  When  Mr. 
Gladstone  entered,  the  House  was  crowded  almost  to 
suffocation.  The  whole  Liberal  party  with  four  excep- 
tions, —  Lord  Hartington,  Trevelyan,  James,  and  Cham- 
berlain, —  rose  to  greet  the  Great  Commoner.  The  Irish 
members  sprang  to  their  feet  and  cheered  him. 

For  three  hours  and  twenty-five  minutes  Gladstone 
held  the  closest  attention  of  the  crowded  House.  His 
voice  was  marvellous ;  now  low  and  soft,  now  strong  and 
powerful.     ]\Ir.  Gladstone  said  :  — 

"  I  ask  you  to  stay  that  waste  of  public  treasure  which 
is  involved  in  the  present  system  of  government  and 
legislation  in  Ireland ;  and  which  is  not  a  waste  only, 


456 


WILLIAM  EWART  GLADSTONE. 


but  which  demoralizes  while  it  exhausts.  I  ask  you  to 
show  to  Europe  and  to  America  that  we  too  can  face 
political  problems  which  America  twenty  years  ago  faced, 
and  which  many  countries  in  Europe  have  been  called 
upon  to  face,  and  have  not  feared  to  deal  with. 

"  I  ask  that  we  should  apply  to  Ireland  that  happy 
experience  which  we  have  gained  in  England  and  in 
Scotland,  where  the  course  of  generations  has  now  taught 
us,  not  as  a  dream  or  a  theory,  but  as  practice  and  as 
life,  that  the  best  and  surest  foundation  we  can  find  to 
build  upon  is  the  foundation  afforded  by  the  affections, 
the  convictions,  and  the  will  of  the  nation ;  and  it  is 
thus  by  the  decree  of  the  Almighty  that  we  may  be 
enabled  to  secure  at  once  the  social  peace,  the  fame,  the 
power,  and  the  permanence  of  this  Empire." 

The  Home  Rule  Bill  provided  for  an  Irish  Legisla- 
ture to  sit  in  Dublin,  with  the  Queen  as  its  head,  to  con- 
sist of  309  members ;  the  Lord-Lieutenant,  appointed  by 
the  Crown,  to  assent  to  or  veto  any  bill ;  the  making  of 
peace  or  war,  all  foreign  and  colonial  questions,  army, 
navy,  and  some  other  matters,  to  remain  in  the  hands  of 
the  Imperial  Parliament;  Irish  members  not  to  sit  at 
Westminster  except  when  summoned  back  for  special 
purposes  ;  Ireland  to  pay  one-fifteenth  as  her  portion  of 
interest  of  national  debt,  army,  etc. 

Mr.  Gladstone's  Home  Rule  Bill  was  bitterly  opposed. 
Chamberlain  and  some  others  left  the  Cabinet.  Mr. 
Parnell,  speaking  for  his  countrymen,  said,  "  I  am  con- 
vinced that  if  our  views  are  fairly  met,  ...  it  will  be 
cheerfully  accepted  by  the  Irish  people,  as  a  solution  of 
the  long-standing  dispute  between  the  two  countries, 
and  that  it  will  lead  to  the  prosperity  and  peace  of 
Ireland  and  the  satisfaction  of  England." 


]yiLLlAM  EWAIiT  CLAlJSTOyE. 


•iiU 


I  you  to 
iaii  faco 
;o  faced. 

II  called 

;  happy 

and  ill 

r  taught 

and  as 

find  to 

'ections, 

id  it  is 

may  be 

-me,  the 

Legisla- 
,  to  cou- 
nted by 
.king  of 

army, 
ands  of 

sit  at 

special 

ition  of 

pposed. 
Mr. 
Lm  con- 
will  be 
Ltion  of 
intries, 
3ace  of 


Eight  days  later^  April  1(5,  ^\\\  CJladstone  introduced 
another  great  measure,  his  Land  rurchase  J>ill,  by  which 
Irish  landlords  liave  the  option  of  selling,  the  price  to 
be  fixed  by  a  land  commission.  The  State  nuiy  buy  this 
land  and  hold  for  or  sell  to  tenants,  and  tlu?  IJritish 
treasury  may  advance  4ir)0,(IO( ).()()(>  for  that  i)urpose. 

'•The  money  advanced  by  th(^  I'.ritish  treasury  is  to 
be  raised  by  the  issue  to  the  landlords  of  three  per  cent 
stock  at  i)ar.  Tliis  stock  is  to  be  red(!emed  by  the  repay- 
ment of  a  terminable  annuity  for  forty-nine  years  by 
the  State  authority." 

Both  the  Home  Rule  and  Land  Purchase  Rills  were 
voted  down,  and  Gladstone  appealed  to  the  country. 
The  Conservatives  gained  a  majority,  and  Salisbury  again 
became  Prime  Minister  in  1880,  Gladstone  having  been 
in  power  only  about  four  months. 

As  might  have  been  predicted,  matters  in  Ireland 
grew  worse  than  before.  A  "  plan  of  campaign  "  was 
adopted,  by  which  tenants  agreed  to  combine  to  resist 
rent  if  there  were  not  suitable  reduction.  Absentee  land- 
lords refused  to  comply.  Tenants  were  evicted  ;  agents 
were  shot ;  dynamite  explosions  took  place  ;  crimes  in- 
creased ;  men  were  arrested,  and  lost  health  and  some- 
times life  in  prison.  At  last,  under  the  Tory  govern- 
nuMit,  ]\Ir.  Balfour's  Land  Purchase  Bill  was  introduced 
iVLarch  24,  1890.  The  bill  authorized  an  advance  by  the 
State  of  about  £33,000,000  to  assist  tenants  in  pur- 
chasing from  the  landlords.  The  Land  Department,  after 
fixing  the  purchase  price,  could  at  once  make  an  order 
constituting  the  tenant  owner  of  his  holding.  The 
tenant  should  pay  an  annuity  of  four  per  cent  upon 
the  amount  advanced,  for  a  period  of  forty-nine  years. 
The  Government  proposed  to  secure  itself  by  a  guaranty 


m 


WTLLIAM  EWAnr  GLADSTOXE. 


i  i 


!    t  ' 


il- 


fund,  consisting  of  a  easli  portion  and  a  contingent  por- 
tion. The  bill  was  opposed  by  Mr.  Gladstone  for  I'our 
reasons,  the  first  being  that  the  bill  was  entirely  unsatis- 
factory to  the  Irish  people  themselves.  ^Nlr.  Tarnell 
proposed  that  in  the  case  of  holdings  of  fifty  pounds 
valuation,  the  landlord  should  reduce  the  rent  of  his 
judicial  tenants  by  thirty  per  cent,  and  roceivt^  an  ad- 
vance v/hich  was  to  be  spent  in  paying  off  the  most 
onerous  of  his  incumbrances.  At  this  time,  May,  ISUl, 
the  House  of  Commons  is  eagerly  discussing  the  Land 
Purchase  ]^)ill,  and  Ireland  i^  awaiting  the  result. 

]\Ir.  Gladstone  has  persevered  in  his  work  for  Ireland. 
He  has  passed  the  age  of  eighty-one,  —  his  golden  wed- 
ding and  eightieth  birthday  were  celebrated  in  1889, 
with  gifts  from  rich  and  })Oor  in  both  continents,  —  still 
vigorous,  still  writing  for  magazines  and  publishing 
his  "  Impregnable  Rock  of  Holy  Scripture,"  and  other 
books,  still  making  his  wonderful  speeches  over  the 
country,  still  honored  and  beloved  as  the  central  figure 
in  English  statesmanship. 

For  the  present.  Home  Rule  has  been  delayed  by  the 
divorce  case  Avith  which  jNFr.  Parnell  has  been  connertod. 
When  the  Liberals  again  come  to  power,  Mr.  Gladstone 
will,  it  is  hoped,  be  able  to  carry  forward  the  great 
reforms  to  which  he  has  devoted  so  many  years. 

Mr.  Gladstone's  life,  with  all  its  care,  seems  to  have 
been  a  most  happy  one.  Of  his  wife,  who  has  been  his 
constant  companion  in  his  speech-making  tours,  he  said 
at  a  reception  given  him  by  the  National  Lilxn'al  Club: 
"No  words  that  I  could  use  would  ever  suffice  to  ex])ress 
the  debt  that  I  owe  her  in  relation  to  all  the  offices  that 
she  has  discharged  on  my  belialf,  and  on  behalf  of  those 
that  are  nearest  and  dearest  to  us,  during  the  long  and 
happy  period  of  our  conjugal  union." 


great 


WILLIAM  KWAltr  aLADsTOSK. 


451) 


Eight  cliildreii  have  been  born  to  ^Ir.  and  ]\Irs.  Ghul- 
stone,  four  sons  and  four  dauglitcrs.  Seven  are  now 
living.  The  ehlest,  William  Henry,  and  th(»  fourth, 
Herbert  John,  have  been  members  of  Parliament ;  the 
second  son,  the  Rev.  Stephen  Edward,  is  rector  of  Hawar- 
den;  the  tliird,  Henry  Neville,  is  engaged  in  mercantile 
pursuits.  Tlie  daughters  are  Anne,  Helen,  and  .Mary  ; 
two  are  married  to  clergymen. 

Mr.  Gladstone  has  been  offered  titles  and  distinguished 
honors  by  the  Queen,  but  he  has  preferred  to  remain 
"  one  of  the  people."  In  1874,  for  pecuniai-y  reasons,  he 
felt  obliged  to  give  up  his  handsome  home,  Carlton 
House  Terrace,  London,  where  he  had  lived  for  eighteen 
years,  and  take  a  smaller  one.  He  also  parted  with  his 
valuable  collection  of  china,  and  many  of  his  pictures. 

Mr.  Pelham-Clinton,  in  Otice  a  Week,  says  of  Mr. 
Gladstone's  London  residence,  in  1(S89 :  ''  It  is  in  James 
Street,  a  curious  little  street  that  leads  from  ]*)ucking- 
ham  Palace  Road  to  Victoria  Street.  The  first  portion  of 
the  street  coming  from  Buckingham  Palace  has  some 
delightful  residences  on  the  one  side,  while  on  the 
other  high  iron  railings  divide  it  from  the  parade  ground 
of  the  Wellington  Barracks,  as  only  one  side  of  the 
street  is  built  up.  The  view  is  always  a  pleasant  and 
animated  one,  though  the  neighborhood  of  the  barracks 
must  add  greatly  to  the  noise,  the  perpetual  bugle  calls 
and  shouts  of  command  being  rather  detrimental  to  per- 
fect repose. 

"The  house  itself  is  built  of  ])lain  yellow  brick,  with 
gray  stone  jioints.  The  jxirtieo  is  sustained  by  four 
stucco  pillars,  and  there  is  the  usual  railing  around  the 
area.  The  windows  are  ali  filled  with  boxes  containing 
gayly  colored  flowering  plants,   wliieli  give  the  outside 


i! 


M 


(■     !■ 


!i 


H 


i   i',-' 


.1  11 ; 


400 


WILLIAM  EWAliT  tl  LAD  STONE. 


a  bright,  cheerful  look,  added  to  by  the  white  curtains 
and  colored  ribbons  holding  them  back,  and  which  can 
just  be  seen.  ... 

"  The  liall  is  scjuare,  and  furnished  in  hard  wood,  and 
brightened  by  red  rugs.  On  one  side  is  the  dining- 
room,  J!  id  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  is  the  drawing-room. 
Turning  to  the  right,  however,  a  few  steps  before  the 
drawing-room  level  is  reached,  a  small  passage  brouglit 
me  to  the  door  of  the  study,  which  was  standing  open. 
Tlirough  it  I  could  see  across  the  room,  and  on  a  lounge 
at  the  other  side,  half  lying  down,  was  ^Ir.  Gladstone, 
reading  very  intently.  It  seemed  at  first  almost  as  if 
he  was  so  intent  on  his  volume  that  lie  could  not  bring 
liis  mind  back  to  animate  objects,  as  he  did  not  catch 
my  name,  but  when  he  did,  his  greeting  was  kindness 
itself." 

Mr.  Gladstone  has  always  been  an  indefatigable 
worker.  He  rises  early,  and  retires  late.  He  is  a  most 
careful  user  of  time.  No  one  who  has  ever  seen  him  can 
forget  his  erect  form,  with  its  quick,  strong  step,  his 
wonderful  power  of  speech,  and  his  thoughtful,  noble 
face. 

jNIr.  Gladstone  stands  to-day  a  unique  figure  in  the 
world's  progress ;  a  man  of  unsullied  reputation,  of 
lofty  impulses,  a  master  in  eloquence,  an  earnest  de- 
fender of  Christianity ;  one  of  the  few  great  leaders 
of  the  nineteenth  century. 


At  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  19th  day  of 
May,  1898,  the  "  grand  old  man,"  as  he  was  universally 
called,  quietly  passed  away  after  a  long  and  lingering 
illness  patiently  borne. 


; 


ams 
can 


uigc 


Irs.  Saral  K.  Bolton's  Fains  Boots. 


"  The  most  interesting  hooks  to  me  are  the  histories  of  individuals  and  individual 
tnindSy  all  autobiographies,  and  the  like.  This  is  my  favorite  reading," —  H.  W. 
Longfellow. 

"Mrs.  Bolton  never  /ails  to  interest  and  instruct  her  r/ai/^rj."— Chicago  Inter- 
Ocean. 

"Always  written  in  a  bright  and  fresh  style." — Boston  Home  Journal. 

"Readable  without  inaccuracy ."  —Uoslon  Post. 


POOR  BOYS  WHO  BECAME  FAMOUS. 

By  Sarah  K.  Bolton.  Short  biotjr.nphic.il  sketches  of  George 
Peabody.  Micliael  Faraci.ay,  Samuel  Johnson.  Adtniral  Farra^ut, 
Horace  Greeley,  William  Lloyd  Garrison,  Garibaldi,  President 
Lincoln,  and  other  noted  persons  who,  from  humble  circumstances, 
have  risen  to  fume  and  distinction,  and  left  behind  an  imperishable 
record.     Illustrated  with  24  portraits.     i2mo.     $1.50. 

'•  It  is  seldom  that  a  book  passes  under  our  notice  which  we  feel  impelled  to 
coiunicnd  so  liif;lily  to  youny;-  reader;.,  and  especially  to  hovs."— .V    1'.  Observer. 

"  No  book  within  our  kiiowled^^e  is  better  suited  to  I)e  adopted  in  the  rapidly 
growinjj  readin^'-circles  of  our  country."— _/f)w/-«(;/  of  Education. 

*'  Of  this  class  of  books  we  cannot  have  too  many,  —the  more  we  have  the  better. 
This  book,  placed  in  the  liands  of  our  youth,  will  be  worth  more  to  them  than  gold." 
—  Christian  Jntelligencer. 

GIRLS  WHO  BECAME  FAMOUS. 

By  Sarah  K.  Bolton.  BiojTraphical  sketches  of  Harriet  Beecher 
Stowe,  George  Eliot,  Helen  Hunt  Jackson,  Harriet  Hosmer,  Rosa 
Boniieur,  Florence  Nightingale,  Maria  Mitchell,  and  other  eminent 
women.     Illustrated  with  portraits.     i2mo.     $1-50. 

"  Mothers  and  dausjhters  cannot  fail  to  find  it  both  an  interesting  and  inspiring 
book." — Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

"  No  better  book  can  be  put  into  the  hands  of  a  young  girl." — Buffalo  Ne^vs. 

"  Such  books  as  this  will  elevate  the  minds  of  young  girls,  help  them  to  understand 
the  real  problems  of  life,  and  leave  a  lastmg  impression  on  their  minds  and 
character." — Boston  Herald. 


FAMOUS  MEN  OF  SCIENCE. 

By  Sarah  K.  Bolton.  Short  biographical  sketches  of  Galileo, 
Newton,  Linnicus,  Cuvier,  Humboldt,  Audubon.  Agassiz,  Darwin, 
Buckland,  and  others.     Illustrated  with  15  portraits.     i2mo.     $1-50. 

"  Cannot  fail  to  delight,  interest,  and  instruct  every  boy  or  girl  who  may  have  the 
good  fortune  to  reail  it." — Queries. 

"  Possesses  both  interest  and  permanent  v:i\\x^."— Boston  Transcript. 

"  No  greater  incentive  to  noble  effort  on  the  part  of  young  men  and  women  could 
be  furnished  than  the  biographies  of  eminent  and  successful  men  such  as  the  present 
volume  cottXaim,^'— Brooklyn  Standard  Union. 

(1) 


MBS.  SABAH  E.  BOLTON'S  FAMOUS  BOOKS. 


FAMOUS  AMERICAN  STATESMEN. 

By  Sarah  K.  Bolton.  Biographical  sketches  of  Washington, 
Franklin,  JolFerson,  llaniilloii,  Webster,  Sumner,  Garfield,  and 
others.     Illustrated  with  portraits.     i2nio.     $1.50. 

"  W'itli  womanly  tact  and  (lisceriiiiu'iit,  she  notes  keenly  and  describes  charinin>^ly 
those  minor  trait.s  of  character  whicli,  alter  all,  do  most'iiistinjjuisli  on;  individual 
from  another,  anil  jj;ive  luiman  nature  its  subtle  and  wontlruus  variety." — 77ie  Critic. 

"  It  will  he  successful,  ami  as  usetul  as  her  other  hooks  have  hecoine.  .   .   .  Her 

stui.ies  of  character,  and   manner   of  description  are  exceptionally  interesting." 

Cohtffn'gationitlist. 


V  '■' 


FAMOUS  ENGLISH  STATESMEN. 

By  SArtAii  K.  Bolton.  With  portraits  of  Gladstone,  John  Bright, 
Rol)ert  Peel,  Lord  Pahnerston,  Lord  Shaftesbury,  William  Edward 
Forster,  Lord  Beaconslield.      umo.     $1-50. 

'"The  author's  comprehension  of  lier  la>k  is  complete.  Students  should  not  con- 
sider  their  knowledjije  of  the  present  reig-ii  tliorouijh  witliout  a  devoted  readinj»-  of 
Mrs.  Holton's  work.  It  is  an  inspiration  to  the  study  of  history,  —  one  of  those  rare 
and  delifjhtful  hooks  which  elevate  respect  for  the  race,  and  man  in  particular;  a 
book  which  makes  the  reader  feel  that  to  be  a  noble  man  is  the  highest  privilege 
anil  the  suhlimest  aim," —  Ckiciii^o  Tribitne. 

"A  ready  and  accomplished  writer."—  Philadelphia  Public  Ledger. 

"  Drawn  with  remarkable  tidelity." —  Charleston  Neivsand  Courier, 


!;i 


!>  li      • 


FAMOUS  ENGLISH  AUTHORS  OF  THE  19th  CEN- 
TURY. 

By  Sarah  K.  Bolton.  Witli  portraits  of  Scott.  Burns,  Carlyle, 
Dickens,  Tennyson.  Robert  Browning,  etc.     i2mo.     $1.50. 

••  Site  invests  with  fresli  interest  .and  charm  those  oft-told  stories  of  the  great 
makers  of  our  nineteenth-century  literature."— TTk?  Critic. 

"  Adinirahlv  executed,  .  .  .  Thev  have  a  charm  that  no  other  kind  of  history  can 
t\\'z\:'— Golden  Rule. 

"  Even  more  interesting  than  the  preceding  books,  .and  will  prove  entertaining,  not 
only  to  ycung  persons,  but  to  older  readers  as  well." — A''.  Y.  Star. 


FAMOUS  AMERICAN  AUTHORS. 

By  Sarah  K.  Bolton.  Short  biographical  sketches  of  Holmes, 
Longfellow.  Emerson,  Lowell,  Aldricli,  Mark  Twain,  and  other 
noted  writers.     Illustrated  with  portraits.     i2mo.     $1.50. 

"  r}rip:ht  .md  ch.itty,  giving  glimpses  into  the  heart  and  home  life  of  some  whom 
the  world  delights  to  honor.  .  .  .  At  once  accurate,  inviting,  instructive." — Chau- 
tauquan. 

"  Nothing  dry  about  the  book.  .  .  .  Should  find  a  place  in  the  libraries  of  those 
who  can  afford  hut  few  books."  —  Omaha  Daily  Times. 

•'  Will  always  hold  rank  in  English  literatui-e,  and  all  lovftrs  of  American  authors 
ibould  read  A,"— 'Ohio  State  Journal. 

(2) 


MBS.  SABAH  E.  BOLTON'S  FAMOUS  BOOKS. 


t. 


FAMOUS  EUROPEAN  ARTISTS. 

By  Sarah  K.  TJolton.  With  portraits  of  Raphael,  Titian,  Land- 
seer,  Reynolds,  Rubens,  Turner,  and  others.     i2nio.     $i.5;o. 

"The  charm  of  tlie  hook,  as  of  all  hy  Mrs.  Htilton,  lies  in  the  easy,  conversational 

natiiralnuss  with  wiiith  the  rfiuicr  is  ii'd  troin  |i;il;c  to  i)aj.'c.  Solid  intorniation  and 
pleasant  untiTtainMicnt  arc  bUtiik-d  cnjoyahly.  \'ouii^:  pcojiic  in  hinuirctls  of  homes 
will  rrail  s'lcli  a  book  with  inlcrist,  and  he  the  better  for  it  "      Coin^ r,i;atiounlisl. 

"Abcniuls  in  inlormation  and  entertainment."— /'////</.('(■//•//;'(;  liiillttm. 

" 'I'iiere  is  nothini;  in  the  line  of  current  bio<;r,ipliy  tli.il  is  better  fitted  for 
inculcatin<;  in  the  youny;  a  hearty  taste  for  wholesome  literatuic.  .  .  .  Printed  in  an 
artistic  manner." — Troy  Timt-s, 

•'  Elevated  both  in  langnagc  and  tlionght." —  Cleveland  LeaJtr. 


FAMOUS  TYPES  OF  WOMANHOOD. 

By  Sarah  K.  Bolton.  With  portraits  of  C^ieen  Louise,  Madam 
Recamier,  Miss  Dix,  Jenny  Lind,  Susanna  Wesley,  llatriet  Martin- 
eau,  Amelia  B.  Edwards,  and  Mrs.  Judson.  i2mo.     $1.50. 

"  Such  a  book  is  well  fitted  to  strengthen  tlie  courai;e  and  inspiration  of  every  woman 
who  is  lcariii?i:j;  to  comprL-hcnd  somctiiiiig  of  the  inherent  n>)bleaess  aiul  glory  of  her 
sex."  —  Harttord  Daily  Tiiites. 

"  Wise  mothers  will  give  this  volume  to  their  daughters.  Conscientious  teachers  will 
read  it  to  their  scholars."  —  Interior. 


FAMOUS  VOYAGERS  AND  EXPLORERS 

By  Sarah  K.  Bolton.  With  portraits  of  Raleigh,  Sir  John 
Franklin.  Magellan,  Dr.  Kane,  Greely,  L,ivinov,Loac,  and  others, 
umo.     $1.50 

"  Mrs.  I'olton  studies  with  patience  and  relates  with  enthusiasm  me  adventures  of  this 
long  line  of  heroes.  Her  siyle  is  simple  and  unaffected,  and  her  accuracy  is  uncjues- 
tioned."  —  Christian  Advocate. 


FAMOUS  LEADERS  AMONG   MEN. 

Bv  Sakah  K.  Bolton.  With  portraits  of  Napoleon,  Wendell 
Phillips,  Thomas  Arnold,  Charles  Kingsley,  Gen.  Sherman,  and 
others.     i2mo.     $1.50 

"  A  scries  of  biographies  which  will  be  widely  read  and  will  do  a  great  deal  of  good." 
—  Boston  Herald. 

"  Entertaining  .mil  inspiring."  —  Public  Opinion. 

"  Her  power  of  condensation  borders  on  the  marvelous."  —  Rochester  Herald. 

FAMOUS  LEADERS  AMONG  WOMEN. 

By  Sarah  K.  Bolton.  With  portraits  of  Cu'.Hcrine  II.  of  Russia, 
Madam  Le  Brun,  Catharine  Booth,  etc.      l2mo,  cloth,  $1.50. 


"  It  is  by  all  odds  the  most  charming  of  Mrs.  Bolton's  famous  books."  —  Northern 
Church  Advocate. 

"  Her  selection  embraces  great  variety,  chronicling  wonderful  events."—  Chicago  f'ress. 

"Mrs.  Bolton  tells  the  story  in  a  way  that  is  both  interesting  and  instructive."  — 
Koches'er  Herald. 


(3) 


MES.  SAEAH  K.  BOLTON'S  BOOKS. 


FAMOUS  GIVERS  AND  THEIR  GIFTS. 

By  Sarah  K.  Bolton.  With  portraits  of  Andrew  Carnegie,  Stephen 
Girard,  John  D.  Rockefeller,  and  others.     i2mo.     ^1.50. 

"  No  better  book  can  be  placed  in  the  family  library  of  parents  who  have  growing-up 
sons  and  daughters."  —  Detroit  Tribune. 

"  A  very  valuable  book."  —  Burlington  Hawkeye. 

"  A  literary  treat.  .  .  .  Constructed  throughout  in  that  charming  style  which  has 
made  Mrs.  Bolton's  writings  so  popular  with  the  intelligent  reader.  One  finds  interest 
not  only  in  every  page,  but  in  overy  line." —  Galveston  News, 

"  Of  great  educational  help."  —  Boston  Advertiser, 

STORIES  FROM  LIFE. 

By  Sarah  K.  Bolton.  A  book  of  short  stories,  charming  and  helpful, 
i2mo.    ^1.25. 

FROM  HEART  AND  NATURE. 

Poems  by  Sarah  K.  and  Charles  K.  Bolton.    i6mo.    Gilt  top,  ^i.oo. 

THE  INEVITABLE,  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 

By  Sarah  K.  Bolton.     i6mo.    With  portrait.     Gilt  top,  $1.00. 

"  The  opening  poem,  from  which  the  book  is  named,  is  an  unusually  inspiring  appeal 
for  courage,  faith,  and  fidelity,  and  we  happen  to  know  that  it  has  already  exerted  a 
powerful  influence."  —  Congregationalist. 

"  Show  the  same  characteristics  that  mark  her  other  work,  simplicity  of  style,  earnest- 
ness of  purpose,  and  purity  of  sentiment."  —  Cleveland  Plain  Dealer. 

"  Her  poetry  is  simple,  earnest,  and  effective."  —  IniteJ>endent. 

"  A  generous  appreciation  will  no  doubt  be  given  this  new  venture  of  the  popular 
writer."  —  Interior. 


't  fi 


A  COUNTRY  IDYL. 

By  Sarah  K.  Bolton.     i2mo.    ^1.25. 

"  The  stories  are  human,  and  read  like  transcripts  from  life.     They  are  sure  to  be 
widely  read  and  enjoyed."  —  Boston  Jourfial. 

"  All  are  well  told,  and  the  reader's  taste  must  be  quite  difTicult  to  be  pleased  if  some 
part  of  the  book  is  not  found  to  be  satisfying."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

"  As  true  to  nature  as  it  is  possible  to  get."  —  Cleveland  Leader. 

"  These  stories  are  all  interesting,  and  will  tend  to  make  Mrs.  Bolton  better  known." 

—  Sunday-School  Library  Bulletin, 

"Clean,  bright,  instructive,  and  winsome  ;  generous  and  optimistic  in  tone." 

—  Chicago  Bookseller. 

THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  &  CO.,  New  York. 

(4) 


